


Fires of War

by MSquared79



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Betrayal, F/M, Jon and Dany and the Stark cousins down the line (if I get there), Lies, Lyanna Stark Lives, Prophecy, Rhaegar Lives, Robert's Rebellion, THe Battle of the Dawn, The Long Night, The Prince That Was Promised, The Truth about Rhaegar and Lyanna
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-02-28 21:49:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 19
Words: 74,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13280553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MSquared79/pseuds/MSquared79
Summary: Rhaegar Targaryen should have known, you cannot cage a wolf.  Changes abound from that point forward.  A different decision leads to Lyanna and the Kingsguard traveling the realm to the shores of the Trident.  A different confrontation takes place, strengthening the fires of war even as Rhaegar is desperate to unite the Seven Kingdoms against the coming darkness.  A different fate befalls the heirs to the Iron Throne that will have repercussions over the coming decades.





	1. A Different Decision

**Author's Note:**

> The main inspiration for this story is "Hell is Empty" by ashotofjac and the realization that there are very few stories where both Lyanna and Rhaegar live. So, I tweaked canon a bit, as I have found it difficult to imagine Lyanna so passive as to stay in the Tower of Joy. Events will be pretty much the same, only with different sides formed for many key events. I have also done some research (thank you, Game of Thrones wiki and A Wiki of Ice and Fire!) for mentioning some interesting things and helping me get dates and ages straight.
> 
> Usual disclaimers apply, sadly. And I'm sorry, Mr. Martin, but the world you created is too much fun to not reimagine.

After the raven had arrived, Rhaegar ocked himself in a room with Sers Arthur, Oswell, Barristan and Lord Commander Gerold, something Lyanna knew was not good. She began pacing around the top level of the tower, a bundle of nerves. It was not until hours later, when darkness had fallen, that Rhaegar returned. “My father has summoned me to the capitol,” he said unhappily. “I and Barristan will leave at sunrise.” 

It was not something unexpected by her. She knew that her brother Ned and Robert had raised their banners when word reached them about the execution of her father and eldest brother. They had received the same message from Queen Rhaella after which Rhaegar held her, the tears never-ending. 

She had lost so much of her family, and could possibly lose more. “And what of me? Am I to stay here while you go off to battle?” she asked, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice. 

“You must stay here. There is too much danger outside of these walls,” Rhaegar said, his pitch raised with anxiety. 

She shook her head, denying his words. “If you think I am going to stay here, my lord husband, you best think something else if you know what it good for you.” He should know Lady Lyanna Stark, Princess Lyanna of House Targaryen, was not one to cower and hide. She would not do so in front of bullies, and she certainly would not in the face of war. “I am coming with you.”

Rhaegar’s mouth dropped open, ready to rebut her words, but the emotions rolling over her stopped him. “This war is just as much my fault as it is yours. We ran off, and in spite of my letter to Father and Brandon, they think it was the crime of abduction. You are now believed to be a vile rapist, holding an innocent maid prisoner somewhere within your kingdoms.”

His lips quirked up in a smile for a moment. “No one who knows you well would realize you are no shrinking maid, my lady.”

She had to return a smile. “Be that as it may, that is what people believe. I am sure some think you as mad as your father.” She closed the distance between them and took his hands in hers. “Rhaegar, it is a misunderstanding, much of our making, that began this chaos, and we must correct it with my family...together.”

He looked back to Barristan, who had been joined by his brothers towards the end of her speech. Arthur looked as though he was ready to continue the protest, while Ser Gerold seemed to be putting a plan together. Oswell, he could not seem to keep the mirth from his eyes. “It was you who chose a ferocious wolf as wife. Did you expect her not to bite when provoked?”

Rhaegar did not look amused by his jape, but ignored it in favor of Gerold’s advise. “Is there a way to move her north without letting my father, or Robert, know?”

Gerold and Arthur moved look a map out on the table in the room. “She has to avoid King’s Landing at all cost, if she is to go north,” the Lord Commander said, then pointed to a particular place. “If we can get her to Harrenhal, we’d be in a good spot to get word North. Now, we can make our way along the Boneway to Summerhall, then on to Tumbleton. From there, we can follow the Blackwater Rush and on to Stoney Sept. Harrenhal is not that much further.”

“I’d recommend traveling to the Isle of Faces,” Arthur interjected. “It is a safer location and still not far from Harrenhal.”

Lyanna nodded in agreement. “It is a sacred place. As a Stark, I will be given shelter, and protection.”

“If the Green Men even allow you to find it,” Oswell commented. “The mists generally obscure the island.”

“They will allow me. I have the blood of the First Men running through my veins,” she replied with confidence.

“Still, we should at least consider Harrenhal as a backup, should you not be able to reach the Isle of Faces,” Gerold said, throwing a look between her and Oswell.

“And I will take Barristan with me to the capitol and see what the king wants of me,” Rhaegar said. “I suspect he will want me to lead our forces. And while I am there, I can help Elia and the children leave the city.”

“If all comes to pass, we can entreat the North, the Vale and Robert at the Trident,” he added. “End this foolishness and focus on stopping the Mad King and what lie beyond the Wall.” He looked outside, seeing the position of the moon. “I doubt we can get ourselves ready by daybreak, so we should be ready to travel morning the next day.”

“I can talk to Ned, explain how he and Robert are wrong. They will listen, I know it,” Lyanna said.

“Your brother may be able to be brought around, but I doubt Baratheon will be easily appeased,” Arthur muttered. “He is not the most reasonable man when sober, and he is less sober than is not.”

Rhaegar stared at the map, concern still in his eyes. “I still don’t like it. You are safer here, especially in a time of war.”

Lyanna regarded him sadly. “Gentleman, may I speak with my lord husband in private?” She looked at each man, and soon, they left. Then she turned her focus on Rhaegar. “I have a great fear that if we are seperated, it will be forever. And I am still without child. If that does happen and we have no son, the future could be in grave jeopardy. When the Long Night comes, there will be no prince that was promised.”

Since their meeting over a year ago, she had become well-versed in Rhaegar’s prophecy. It may have sounded absurd to most people, but she felt there was too much in common with the tales Old Nan would tell when she was a girl in Winterfell. Before leaving to meet up with him and the Kingsguard, she had read through many histories and legends in the keep’s library and brought them with her for him to study. They had fallen in love more with each other while reading by candlelight and he had eventually gone to his wife, asking for an annulment.

Lyanna had felt terrible to have the man she loved put into such a position, but Elia had surprised them both. She was a sickly woman and unhappy in King’s Landing. Their marriage had been a political match as much as to shore up the Dornish prince as is was to throw a wrench into Tywin Lannister’s ambitions. Areys had even admitted, in one of his last grasps of sanity, he wanted his heir out of the lion’s mouth. He had lost his trust in his old friend and loathe the man’s daughter. 

Rhaegar agreed that Cersei was possibly even more dangerous that her father and, at the time, readily agreed to the match. But he and Elia were not very compatible, and after their daughter’s birth, began to live separate lives. He wasn’t even sure if the boy she had birthed was even his, as it was known that Elia kept with the Dornish way of paramours. They had come to an agreement, in light of cautions about her birthing another child and Rhaegar’s growing feelings for Lyanna. He would acknowledge little Aegon in return for an annulment, then when Areys had been removed, would legitimize both children and place them in the line of succession after any children of Rhaegar and Lyanna. 

The only complication that came was a raven’s message from Elia, after ther wedding. The king, losing any grip he still had, refused to let Elia and the children leave King’s Landing. Rhaegar knew there were two purposes in that. One was to try to manipulate his son, and the other was to keep Prince Doran in line. He had been trying for months to arrange his former wife’s passage, even asking for aid from Lewyn Martell, her uncle, but nothing was working.

He seemed to concentrate on Lyanna’s words, and they did, at last, sink in. “You are right, my love. But your safety is paramount. Arthur, Oswell and Gerold will stay with you at all times,” Rhaegar said firmly, a tone that broached no argument. “And I think I shall send a raven to Lady Olenna Tyrell. She is the true power in the Reach, and I will ask her meet you at Bitterbridge.” He let out a laugh. “If the Queen of Thorns can travel with you, there is little doubt in my mind your journey will be unmolested.”

“Have her travel with me to the Isle of Faces?” Lyanna did not understand his thinking. “The Tyrells are not the greatest military power in Westeros, so I cannot see how she can be of help.”

“My dear, would you want to fall upon Lady Olenna on the road, even with an army at your back?” 

She cocked her head to the side, acting at thinking about his comment. “I can see that point,” she said, letting a smile cross her face. 

“It is an extra precaution, that is all,” Rhaegar assured her, taking her in his arms. “I will travel as far as Summerhall with you, then head to King’s Landing. The place still touches me, even as it haunts my family. I wish to see if again, if indeed it is the last time I do.”

She placed her finger across his mouth. “Do not say that. Do not even think that. We must persevere.” She added a kiss to seal her word. It was a sweet relief, something she had enjoyed the very idea of since they first met. Then, remembering that fateful day in the Riverlands, an idea struck her. “Dearest, I think I may have a way to ensure my safety even more.”

He closed his eyes as if he was afraid of what she was thinking. “I may fear the answer, but what is it?” he asked.

“Well, we must keep my movements a secret, right?” When he nodded, she went on. “Mayhaps a way to disguise my identity would be of some use. Something to make it seem I am not even a woman at all.” He narrowed his eyes, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Perhaps we can contact an armourer en route to Summerhall and have a suit made for me, and a shield.”

Lyanna hoped she had revealed enough for Rhaegar to catch on, and after a moment, it did seem to dawn on him. “There are added risks with that, you know. I doubt my father has forgotten about the brave knight that bested three others, even if it was a year ago.”

“I think it is a risk we need to take,” she implored. “Better to be covered in helm than not at all. And few would need to know. Arthur, Gerold and Oswell, of course, but only also Olenna when we meet up.”

He was deep in thought as she was all nerves awaiting his answer. “I have heard of a fine smith in Blackhaven, and House Dondarrion has pledged itself to the crown. I think it may work.”

“In the morn, I will draw a recreation of the Laughing Tree for the smith to work off. It will take a few days for the shield to be completed, so by time we travel there, it should be done,” Lyanna said, laying out the rest of her plan.

“It is still dangerous. Should a little bird sing that the Knight of the Laughing Tree has returned, riding with Kingsguard no less, it could put all of us in peril.” Rhaegar’s voice still held a hint of disapproval. “It may be wiser to send one of the men ahead to ensure the work is ready and then continue to Summerhall when we meet up.”

She nodded in agreement. “I still cannot stay here, worrying my days away, Rhaegar,” she protested gently. “You had a plan laid out to overthrow the king, until you met me. You may have destroyed any alliances you had created with running away with me. Only I can come forward and try to repair the damage our…” Lyanna didn’t want to say the words, didn’t want to imply the wrongness of their being together. 

He hushed her. “I do believe destiny led me to you. And besides, it has fulfilled a long-standing pact between our houses. If nothing else, your brother will accept the honoring of Jacaerys Velaryon and Cregan Stark’s treaty.”

Lyanna smirked, remembering the lesson of her maester. “It was supposed to be a princess of your house marrying a lord of mine.”

Rhaegar shrugged before wrapping his arms around her. “In High Valyrian, the words prince and princess have no gender differentiation,” he told her as his lips touched hers and her tongue slipped in his mouth.

“Yes, my lord, but it was...written…” she said between breaths as they were overcome in each other’s embrace, “...in the Common Tongue.

Unable to continue the debate, she led him to the bedroom. The room as alight with candles on tables, windowsills, even the floor. “How did you get this ready?” Rhaegar threw a glance around the room as he asked.

“I have very efficient handmaidens,” she replied, moving her hands to the ties on his tunic. She began to undo then as he moved his over her back and laid kisses along her neck.

“Offer them my compliments on the decor,” he said, sliding to the ties on her skirt. In a single deft motion, they came undone and the material fell to the floor. 

Now Rhaegar raised his arms, allowing her to pull his shirt over his head and nudging her to the bed. He fell with her as he slipped his hands under the shift she wore and slid it off of her. Kisses were placed gently down her breasts, stomach, thigh. Her hands found the waist of his breeches and, with his help, they too came off. 

With the gentlest of touches, he moved into her. It was sweet ecstasy, from their first coupling to every other one since. Soon, they were lost in each other as time itself had no meaning. Hours later, they still lay in each other’s arms, sleep within Lyanna’s grasp until she saw something out the window, blazing through the sky. It looked to be a shooting star, red as a dragon’s flame.

“Rhaegar,” she whispered, not wanting to disturb him, but wanting him to see the sight. He didn’t move, even with the gentle shove she gave him. Instead, he muttered incoherently in his sleep. She tried once more, but he remained asleep.

Her heartbeat quickened as she watched its path. She remembered him telling her and showing her the passage about a bleeding star heralding the coming of the promised prince. Could that be what she was seeing? Could the signs be making themselves known already?

She looked back at Rhaegar. He was a peaceful man and, in his sleep, with his silver-blonde hair, he looked like a true angel. His worries were a heavy weight on his shoulders. Not just his father’s madness, or even the rebellion that had stirred across the Seven Kingdoms, but the fear he held for what was coming from the Land of Always Winter. The Others were real, they were both sure, and the danger they posed was greater than anything anyone could conceive. Now, if they had indeed created a child, their son who would lead in the wars to come. On the cusp of their escape from the Tower of Joy, he may reconsider his decision to to allow her to leave. She could not allow him to go back to his original plan.

So Lyanna let him sleep. They had a long journey ahead of them, both of them. He was going back to the center of madness and had to make his father think he was ready to be the dutiful son. She was trying to get back home, or as close as she could, trying to make right so much tragedy. She prayed to the Old Gods to allow her passage to the Isle of Faces, and the safe haven it was. She prayed to the New Gods that they help in calming the fire that had stoked Westeros, and led to so much death and destruction.

She only hoped she was not to late, or else all could be lost.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
It took them a little more than a week to make it to Summerhall, including the stopover in Blackhaven. The smith had done an excellent job forging the image known the realms over from the Tourney at Harrenhal, but did not inquire who the actual knight was, a fact both were grateful for. They also purchased a suit as mismatched as the one she had worn during the joust to add to her costume and Lyanna carried a small sword Arthur had been training her on to while away the hours at the Tower of Joy. Then the continued on their way, at last arriving at Summerhall.

Lyanna knew Rhaegar wanted to return there. He had always had a special bond to the place, even as it was a shell off the magnificent palace it once was. She knew there was sadeness still there, after the great fire that had virtually destroyed it, and killed many of the Targaryens, including Aegon the Fifth and his son and heir. It was that event that had eventually allowed Aerys to sit on the Iron Throne, but it had also been, in the midst of the fire that her beloved was born.

“Strange,” Rhaegar said when they reached the ruins. They were still mounted on their horses as they rode down the lane leading to the remains. “I did not spend more than a day here when it was unburnt, but I still, I feel drawn to it.”

“It holds a part of your family’s history and maybe a part of your soul,” she suggested. “It must have been the grandest keep in the kingdom at its height.”

“Yes, it must have been,” he agreed. “If we succeed…”

“When we succeed,” she corrected him.

Rhaegar gave her a smile and a tilt of his head. “When we succeed, I want to rebuild it. I know it can never be what it once was, but I would like it as a retreat from the capitol. King’s Landing is becoming unlivable, even for the the nobility.”

Lyanna agreed wholeheartedly. Being that she was from the North, much of the South, to her, was too crowded, too noisy. There were few places where one could think and commune with nature and nature’s Gods. And one of them, she felt as they made their way along the lane, was Summerhall.

They dismounted from their horses and he led her through the ruins. Even with walls blackened, you could still see the beauty in the art and architecture that had gone into the construction. But the most surprising thing for her to see was the godswood.

The further south one got, the less one would see a proper godswood. But within this one stood a weirwood with faces carved into the trunks. 

 

“I remembered the first time I found them. They are so rare in this part of the country. I knew there was a meaning to them being here.” He took her in his arms and she laid her head on his shoulder. “Why else would this place, close to my heart, have them, if not for the considerations of the gods my wife worships. A proper place of worship for a Northern lady.”

She was touched by his words. “I can see why you took this as a sign, my love.” The last heart tree she saw was the one he had brought her to for their wedding. He wanted it done properly, with the blessings of the Old and New Gods. 

She had spoken with the High Septon when he came to bless their marriage. As a Northerner, Lyanna was often suspicious of the Faith of the Seven’s religious leader, but this one was an oddity within his belief set. He was a learned man who had an appreciation for what had come before the Seven. In his youth, he made a study of the heart trees and from his exalted post, promoted a program of preservation where it was needed. He truly believed in strong ties with those of other faiths within the Seven Kingdoms. And he was proud to be the one to join together children of the Old Gods and the New. 

Their tent was raised near the heart trees and it was there they spent what could be their last night ever together. Since it was a holy place, Rhaegar didn’t feel it right to make love, even though Lyanna said there was nothing wrong in the eyes of the gods if they did. 

“I just want to fall asleep in your arms, and pray you are with child,” he said.

Lyanna bit her lip. She wanted to tell them about the comet she saw their last nights in the Tower of Joy, but again, she feared his overprotectiveness. “We have certainly had enough times for you to plant your seed,” she said, a mischievous affectation in her voice. “And you can also have one last go of it, just to be sure.”

He shook his head. “No. Something tells me our little one is on the way.”

There was the temptation again, the urge to tell him. But she held her tongue. “Have you heard from Highgarden?”

“Yes, when we were at Blackhaven. You were with Oswell at the armourers when the raven arrived. She said she would meet Arthur at Bitterbridge as planned. Then you will continue on.”

“Incognito, with the indomitable Olenna Tyrell by my side,” she said, her voice still unsure about the second part.

Rhaegar laughed. “I have a feeling you would be kindred spirits. She has been known to go against the tide like some other lady I know, a force to be reckoned with in her own right.”

Lyanna turned to face her husband from where they lay on the bedroll. “Are you saying I am heir to the Throne of Thorns?” she asked as she was overcome with giggles. Rhaegar must have had the same image in his mind, the same understanding at her play on words, because he joined her reaction.

Lyanna felt that if this was their last night together for a long time, it was a perfect memory.


	2. Capitol of Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhaegar returns to King's Landing to see his father's madness, worry about his former wife and have an interesting encounter. Then, before he leaves for battle, he has dreams of what is to come, for him and his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to state something about the personality of one of the characters in my story. Understand, I am coming from a lot of this via merely the show. I'm supplanting my knowledge with wikis for both the books and show, but they can only go so far, I admit. But one aspect I am leaning more with the show was Doran Martell, even if he hasn't appeared yet. I know there is a big difference between his personalities in the books and on the show. Onscreen he's very passive (Ellaria describes him as weak as she kills him) and this is the version I'm going with, for the purposes of the story with some aspects. Events will push him more to the other, more aggressive side as they come up, but at the beginning, it's the former.  
>   
> I've also made some alterations in conversations to change things. Yes, I can see problems readers would have, even if it is writer's prerogative, but I think it may even help as the story goes on. But be warned. This is a very alternative universe than the one from the source material. We'll be veering off a lot more, with major changes to come in continental dynamics. Sorry if I lose some of you, but I like to think how different the world would be if some people lived who don't. (Others will remain very much the same, maybe even more extremes of themselves however).  
>   
> I'm planning on doing updates for this story on Saturdays, and "From There to Here" on Sundays. We'll see how long it all works.  
> Hope you enjoy and please, let me know!

Rhaegar had long hated King’s Landing. The city had grown exponentially since Aegon the Conqueror had laid down the first stones, and today, it was bustling to bursting at the seams. But with the growth came issues of health, well-being, caretaking and needs that had been ignored during the past few reigns, and more so since his father sat on the Iron Throne. Not to mention the general danger it posed with an insane monarch present, terrorizing everyone, especially his own family.

If I have my way, Lyanna and our children will never see this place until Aerys is long dead and King’s Landing can be rebuilt to something approaching sanitary for all, Rhaegar thought as he and Ser Barristan rode up to the Red Keep. It took nearly a fortnight to arrive, crippled by storms that seemed to crash unusually far inland. In truth, Rhaegar didn’t much mind the delays. He was never eager to see his father, and less so with worries for his now-former wife’s safety.

They crossed the bridge and were immediately met by Ser Jaime Lannister. “Your Grace,” the impossibly young man said, bowing to greet his prince.

“Jaime,” he acknowledged. “Where is the king and where is the princess and my children?” he asked briskly, as they walked through the corridors.

“Her Grace and the children in their apartment in Maegor’s,” the Kingsguard reported first, “and the king is in the Throne Room. He has ordered you brought to him immediately upon your arrival, your grace,” Jaime added as he walked beside him.

The Crown Prince had expected that. He wished to see Elia, Rhaenys and little Aegon first, but thought it better to appease the king. “To my father, then,” he said, turning in the proper direction.

As expected, his father was seated on the Iron Throne with all the court present. Before him were Prince Lewyn Martell and Ser Jonothor Darry in a protective formation, and three bedraggled smallfolk, all in chains. Standing next to the hideous chair was a pyromancer looking to be little better than a peasant, the badge of Hand of the King reflecting the light perfectly.

“Who is that man?” Rhaegar whispered, stunned at the sight before him.

Rhaegar sucked in a breath, trying to get the image Jaime was describing out of his head. With a short nod, he descended the steps and approached the throne. Aerys’ wild eyes caught sight of him immediately.

“And here is my ungrateful son, after disappearing off with some wolf whore, no doubt,” he thundered, his voice echoing off the marble in the room.

Rhaegar had to fight the urge to react to his father’s description of Lyanna. It would do him no good to comment on the statement. So, he masked his anger with as placating a smile as he could. “Father, I am a married man. It would dishonor the Princess Elia,” he said through gritted teeth. “I have merely been meeting with our Dornish Banners in preparation for a march North.”

“Like that slut you married would have such a care!” he cried, a wicked cackle following. “Gods love the Dornish for that, at least. They have little care for propriety, much more relaxed with taking a woman.”

The topic was going from bad to worse, so Rhaegar looked to change it. He noticed the three chained men, one no more than ten years of age. “Father, why are these people here before your illustrious presence? Are they criminals?”

“They have stolen from me!” he yelled, making the child jump at the sound. “They were caught snatching bread from an overturned cart on the Street of Flour.”

“But the baker was to be unable to sell it, as it fell into the mud,” the child explained, a hint of courage making itself visible. “My sisters hadn’t eaten for a week, but it would be better than nothing, milord.”

“You dare counter the words of your king!” Aerys screeched. “You have stolen from your betters! ‘Tis one of the greatest crimes. Rossart!”

With the approach of the latest Hand to his father’s side, Rhaegar knew any control he may have was being lost. He knew what the Mad King was planning, and it was overkill in the extreme, especially in light of the desperate needs of the accused. “Father, these are suffering people! They need help, not punishment!” Then he called out, “Is the baker here? Can he attest to the boy’s story?”

A hideous laugh came from atop the steps to the throne. “He will be of no help. He tried to plead for leniency, but then I pointed out this theft was stealing from the crown in the taxes the man paid.” Rhaegar saw his father’s sick logic and prayed to the Old and New that what he was thinking was not what happened. But then the king nodded off to the side, when his son noticed charred flesh and bone. “Stand back, boy! They will burn for their crime!”

Every instinct within the prince made told him to stand between his father and the poor souls. But Ser Jonothor called out Selmy. “Remove his Grace to the side, Ser. The King has decreed death.”

Rhaegar looked back one last time as Barristan maneuvered him out of the way. He was too stunned, quite honestly, to protest. For as mad as he knew his father to be, there were few times he actually witnessed the man’s brutality.

Wordless, Aerys signalled Rossart and within minutes, it was over. The screams were the sound out of nightmares, the agony so great. But once the fire burned down enough, his father’s attention was back on him. “Now, boy, we have matters to discuss. You are to use whatever force is necessary to put down this revolt. The half-breed thinks he can dictate to me! Well, I will see him and the little wolf burn for their treachery.”

It was stunning how his father moved from gruesome execution to military planning within the blink of an eye. But thankfully, he knew this would come up at some point, and he and Barristan had actually come up with a ‘plan’ to present to the king. “I have talked with a number of Dorne’s leading families. They are making their way North, forty thousand of them. When I have finalized arrangements here, I will meet them at Harrenhal.”

“Harrenhal,” Aerys murmured, his eyes sliding from one side to the other. “Never was there so ill omened a keep in all the lands. Ghosts abound there, boy, and even they conspire against me, like that knight who vanished into the ether!”

His father’s mention of Lyanna’s anonymous persona sparked fear in him, but he calmed himself and worked to move onto the battle plans themselves. “Harrenhal is ideal place to launch an attack when the rebels move south. And I will personally make sure Eddard Stark and Robert Baratheon are brought to you in chains,” he replied, hoping it was enough of a distraction.

“Yes, yes, good. I look forward to the day when they all burn.” His last sentence was barely a whisper and then he moved off the throne, leaving the court behind. Darry and Martell fell into step with him, leaving Jaime and Barristan alone after everyone else cleared out.

“Are you alright, your grace?” Jaime asked concerned.

Rhaegar did not have the words. “It it a horror to see,” he replied, trying to unsee the gruesome executions. After that, he needed some sign that there still was good in the world. “Elia and my daughter and son.” It was an unspoken order, but the young knight understood.

They came to the princess’ apartments in Maegor’s and as soon as the door was opened, a tender laugh welcomed him. “He does silly things!” Rhaenys cried with delight.

“Well, you did silly things when you were his age,” Rhaegar called out, announcing his presence.

“Father!” And with that, he was reminded of the sweet girl who seemed to be just a babe not long ago. “You’ve come home!”

“Yes, but I will have to leave soon,” he said. “Your grandfather needs me to be a brave warrior.”  
He caught Elia’s expression, a mix of concern, sadness and maybe relief. “Dearest, why don’t you go with your nan. I am certain your father has had a long journey and is very tired.”

“I will play with you later, I swear it,” Rhaegar said, thankful for her intervention. It surprised him that the little girl went without protest, the governess taking Aegon before they left. With the little ones gone, Rhaegar collapsed into a nearby chair.

Elia got up and poured him a glass of Arbor gold, handing it to him with a slight smile. “Have you been well, my dear? Was your hunt a success? It is a strange location for the creatures, I know, but I would think you found at least one.” It was a code they had come up with, should little birds hear them.

“Successful, but sadly, the prey soon escaped my grasp,” he said, hoping she got his reference. “It is a wily creature.”

Elia parted her lips with surprise, but a nod of her head indicated she understood. “And will you pursue it again? I know your fondness for the pelt.”

“Yes, but I feel I will have better opportunities in the North. I told father I would lead the army there, so I hope to get some sport in along the way.” It often amazed him, how in sync they could be for two who came to realize they were ill-suited for each other. While it may not be love, he did have an affection for her and her intuition. “But enough about what I have been doing. How goes your departure plans?”

Elia’s eyes were downcast. “Your father feels it would be safer for me to remain in King’s Landing with Kingsguard, City Watch and Targaryen forces. He believes the rebels will be crushed before they can reach us.”

She was trying to sound optimistic, but he knew better. “Can your uncle not persuade him to change his mind?” But with the look she gave him, he realized the folly in his statement. “He has little mind left. All the same, he would want the line of succession to be especially protected.”

“He has little regard for a girl and he does not believe Aegon is of his blood,” she replied.

Rhaegar saw the babe before he was carried out. He was still very young, but what he saw was much more Martell than anything else. Tufts of hair that were certainly darker than most Targaryens, and though he had not seen them just now, the child’s eyes were blue at birth, but that was something that could change as he grew.

“I care not if I am his father, you know that?” He felt he should reassure her of his commitment to her children.

“You are unlike so many men. Most would want me gone at the mere suspicion of paternity. But you welcome it,” she said a little awed. “And I also do not think it is solely because of your belief.”

He remembered back to when she had given birth to the boy. It had nearly killed her and if it had, the child would have had no one. Honor at least compelled him to step forward no matter the truth. “He is my son, because you are his mother. The gods could have given him no greater a gift.” He stood up and refilled his glass. “Now, we must think of a way to have you permitted to leave. Have you heard from your brother? Maybe he can make an excuse to the king, saying you are needed home.”

“Rhaegar, I don’t think that is going to be possible,” she replied. “I even made that suggestion when I told Doran of the annulment.” Rhaegar was concerned at the mention of her brother, one of the most powerful rulers in the Seven Kingdoms. Elia must have read his face. “Doran understood everything, fear not, and while not happy, House Martell will put up no argument as to the line. Or, at least him. I am sure Oberyn has made his grievances known to our brother.”

Rhaegar thought on what she was saying about her brother. It was highly unorthodox to remove legitimate children from the line of succession, even be a cause for war. But he believed his prince that was promised would come with Lyanna and wanted to ensure that he would be the next ruler of the Seven Kingdoms after himself. Yet nowhere had Rhaegar read about the prince being a king, only the leader in the great war to come. “Perhaps we can put your brothers’ minds at ease,” he said. Then he explained an idea he had just come up with.

“But the annulment declares we were never married, that the children…” she reminded him.

“Yes, I know. But I am sure the High Septon will understand that you did not weigh the political impact of such an offer,” he replied. “Rhaenys and Aegon will remain where they are in line for the throne. In fact, with respects to their mother, why should not Rhaenys follow me directly? Yes, that is what I shall do, reinstate them by order of birth.”

“And objections would not be raised?” Elia asked pointedly.

Rhaegar shook his head. “The prophecy speaks of a prince. Should we have sons, that is what they would be, as sons of a prince himself.”

She walked over to him and took his hand. “Thank you. I know you do not have to do this, any of this. And worry not about my presence in King’s Landing. My uncle will do anything he can to make sure I and the children are safe.” Her voice held a confidence in her words, but all the same, he did worry. She seemed to sense it. “You have greater concerns to deal with. I will be fine. I am a princess of Dorne. Never has a day gone by that the gods and the sun have not blessed me.”He nodded and was making his way to his rooms within the apartment when a knock came to the doors. Ser Barristan opened them and said, “Lord Varys wishes to call on you in private, your grace.”

He nodded and was making his way to his rooms within the apartment when a knock came to the doors. Ser Barristan opened them and said, “Lord Varys wishes to call on you in private, your grace.”

Rhaegar stiffened at the words. He distrusted Varys a great deal, although for some reason, Grand Maester Pycelle raised his own paranoia more.

The Master of Whisper was a mysterious fellow, hailing from Essos, by way of an interesting career. He seemed adept to play whatever side seemed to have the upper hand, yet seemed at other times to favor neither. But it was Varys’ little birds that worried him. He had a talent for choosing the most innocuous to ferret out the secrets of the realm.

And now, Rhaegar feared Lord Varys had discovered his. “Show him in. I wish to have a chat as well the man myself.”

Barristan stepped aside and in swept the eunuch. He was ever the humble supplicant, bowing deeply to the prince. “Your Graces, I am happy you permitted me to see you. I missed you in court and wanted to find out how your journey went in Dorne.”

Elia and Rhaegar’s eyes went to each other without moving their heads, even though they were standing next to each other. But Elia excused herself before anything further was said. “I should see to the children, my lord. We should dine tonight, as a family.”

He turned to his wife, taking her hand to his lips and giving it a gentle kiss. “I look forward to it, my lady.” And then she was gone.

Varys watched her go, bowing respectfully of course, but once they were alone, his demeanour changed. “How was your journey through Dorne? My Lord Hand said you were speaking with bannermen of the Martells for forces in the coming battles.”

“Yes, it was a very fruitful trip.” He was trying to be a vague as possible.

“And yet, you made a visit to Blackhaven? It is a small House, still rather new. And Ser Oswell Whent was seen at the shop of Guymon Destill, a master blacksmith and armourer. I ask you, have I missed him when you arrived in the Great Hall?” It seemed as though Varys’ birds had been singing many songs.

“I think it is important to seek help from every House at our call. And I have sent Whent, along with Dayne and HIghtower to represent me, as I was called back to the capitol,” Rhaegar replied with a coldness in his voice. It seemed they were playing at words, the both of them.

“And a young lady was seen in Ser Oswell’s company. I heard her described as rather pale for someone down south.” Varys still sounded so unassuming. But Rhaegar knew that the Spider knew. He turned to the Lysian, his eyes projecting danger. Varys seemed unaffected by this. He let Rhaegar continue with the glare for a moment longer. Then he broke the tension. “In my years here in Westeros, I have taken the opportunity to learn all I can about its history. From the times before even Aegon the Conqueror to now. Do you know what I found the most fascinating historical fact?”

Still trying to communicate a threat, he grinded out, “What is it that you found so fascinating in your studies?”

“While it is often talked about that Dorne was not conquered, but came into the Seven Kingdoms through marriage, not much is noted about the fact that, in the most technical sense, neither was the North conquered. They capitulated before Aegon and his dragons Not one drop of Northman blood was spilled when Torrhen Stark met Aegon Targaryen and his dragons at the Trident. He was wiser than the Lannisters and the Gardeners and Aegon allowed him to keep the customs of his people. Because of his decision, still seen as unpopular in some corners, it allows for us to be in the positions we are in today.” He walked around the room, picking up knick knacks for inspection. “And later, an agreement was reached between the Starks and, well, a branch of your family. It was never consummated,” he paused, probably for dramatic effect, “until it was consummated. And now, after three hundred years, the Kings in the North and the Conqueror-Kings are bound by blood. At a most fortuitous time.”

“And what do you plan to do with this information, my lord?”

He smiled, but there was nothing malicious about it. “Nothing, your grace. I think it was the wisest choice you could make. My only regret is that it wasn’t sooner.” He came to stand in from of Rhaegar, his eyes boring into him. “The Seven Kingdoms needs a savior, and she has proven to be as much one as you hope to be. I realized it when I realized the shield she is carrying from Blackhaven. She will make a great queen, another Alysanne the Good even.”

He turned to leave but Rhaegar stopped him. “And what of my father? You will not tell him?” Now it was Rhaegar who faced him. “That is treason, withholding such information from the king.”

“Depends on which king I am serving,” came Varys’ gentle rebuttal. “Make no mistake, your grace. My first loyalty is to the people. I have spent a lifetime seeing the common people crushed by the powerful and the wealthy. But once in a while, there comes someone with power and wealth who choose to use them for the people. They are rarities, and the opportunity to support and serve them often short-lived. I hope for a different fate for you.” With a final bow, the Master of Whispers left.

“Do you think he can be trusted?” Elia’s voice asked him from around the corner. Naturally, she had been eavesdropping on the conversation, a smart decision for the both of them.

Rhaegar was unsure of how to answer that question. He had a lingering suspicion about the foreigner, but now, hearing his words, he looked at him in a different light. But still, he feared trusting the man. There was too much at stake to tread into such unknown waters. “I think an eye should be kept on him, especially now that I know he has certain information.”

“Then allow me to be those eyes,” his former wife said. He was about to protest, but she shushed them. “I have my own flock of songbirds. Besides, I feel as though I owe you something for your consideration of my son. As I said, most men would not be so generous.”

“A child is a gift from the gods, Princess. Womanly qualities are fraught with danger to bring such a gift into the world,” he replied. “I do appreciate the Dornish view of a child coming from love, regardless of the marital status of its parents. I wish the the rest of the realm were so open minded.” Rhaegar took her arms and pulled her to him, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Just be careful. The last thing I need is further worry about the people I care about. And speaking of which, my next stop should be to Mother.”

He walked to his mother’s apartments, opening them and calling out to her. No one answered right away, so he called for his brother.

Viserys stepped into the longe. “Where have you been, brother?” he asked, sounding impossibly old for a child of six.

I have been out ensuring support from our loyalist in the wars to come,” Rhaegar answer, bending down and embracing his brother. The boy did not return the gesture.

“Father says you’ve been with the whore you found at Harrenhal,” he said. Rhaegar stiffened at the comment. He did not like that his brother knew such a word at his age.

“Father ordered me to call our banners and have the houses loyal call theirs, nothing more,” he repeated. “Where is mother?”

She is where she always is, in bed.” Then he wandered off without another word.

Rhaegar walked to his mother’s room, steeling himself for the worst. “Mother?” he called as he knocked on the door.

“Come in,” she replied back, and he entered. What he saw was a terrible sight. His mother’s face was shades of lightening black and blue, a nasty gash on her left cheek. She looked to be in great pain. Even so, she smiled. “My blessed boy!”

He took three quick strides to her bedside, holding her hand and giving it a kiss. “Mother…!” He didn’t want to sound alarmed.

“It is not as bad now. And the other...aches have lessened as well,” she assured him. “Grand Maester Pycelle is taking excellent care of me.”

He somehow doubted that. “You must come up with some reason to go to Dragonstone, to get away from him,” he implored near tears.

“My son, I fear I cannot. He would not allow me and Viserys would refuse as well,” Queen Rhaella replied. “He has been spending more time with Aerys. Your father has even had him witness justice doled out.”

Rhaegar closed his eyes, the screams from earlier today still ringing in his ears. “Is there no way to see him separated from Father? If this continues…”

“You have other concerns, I am sure, than your old mother. Tell me, how was Dorne?” He knew she wanted to end one topic of conversation, so she make light of another.

He grieved that she had to live this way. She knew, of course, that Elia was no longer his wife and that Lyanna had been tucked away somewhere safe. She had wanted to be happy for him, but they both feared that the slightest hint could endanger them all from the king.

So he lived within the illusion. “Hot, as normal. While I did not get out to Sunspear, the Marches were almost unbearable. But it was a success at least.”

“And now you ride north,” she stated. “When will you be leaving?”

“Yes, in a week. I am having supplies gathered as we speak. I must see an end to this rebellion,” he told her.

“Just remember, we need our Silver Prince. Make sure you bring him home to me. If that can happen, I will be gladden for it, at least.” She was depressed, that much was certain, but there did seem to be a sign of hope.

“I will, Mother,” he assured her. He stayed silent for a moment. “Do you think Father would allow me to bring Viserys with me when I go North? Some experience may do him some good.”

“Alas, my bright boy, I fear he would not allow it. Aerys is keeping your brother close by,” she replied.

“And is there anything I can do to ensure you are being taken care of? Ser Jaime will be staying here to guard the family, I can ask him to call on you especially?”

“No, my son. I think your father is getting thoughts from all the attention I have been receiving from that young man,” she quipped, a glint scarcely visible in her eye.

He nodded as he stood up from the bed. “I will come by everyday I am in King’s Landing, Mother, I promise.” And it was one he desperately wanted to keep. He hated the idea of his mother and brother forced to live with that madman.

“I look forward to those visits,” she said, waving as he walked out. The door closed behind him, he briefly thought about talking again to his young brother. But he feared the look he saw in the boy’s eyes. Rhaegar hoped that when it was all over, the boy could be saved, but time was of the essence for the young child’s soul.

Later that night, his hopes and worries manifested themselves is visions. Some were terrifying, but some offered hope. The first was the sight of himself standing over two shrouds, the crimson color doing little to hide the blood on them. A stag stood above him, next to the Iron Throne. It was gloating, its gaze directed at the cloths. And behind the stag was a pride of lions, not looking at Rhaegar himself, but at the throne, hungry and vicious.

Something grasped him by the elbow and he turned. Now he was amongst snow, pristine and white. An old woman stood in front of him. “The children of the forest made a terrible mistake. They created monsters to protect them from their enemies, only for the monsters to turn on them. It forced the the children to join with those who would have destroyed them, made them understand who the true enemy was. You must to the same, dragon, or else all will be lost.”

Next came the image showed of a man, young with dark hair and light eyes. He was holding aloft a Valyrian steel sword with a pommel of a wolf’s head. Above the man was a great black dragon ridden by a woman who could only be a Targaryen. At her breast was a babe. They faced an army that was impossible. And as the enemy approached, the man turned to him. “Father” was all he was able to say.

Finally, Rhaegar saw his own body, splade out for its funerary rights. The same man stood at the foot of the bier, his back rigid, a crown resting on his head and his sword pointed to the floor as he watched over the body. Next to the man were two women, young and old but other than that, he could not see their faces. “The King Uncrowned, The Leader of the Army of the Dawn,” he intoned, a phrase that was repeated by the gathered court.

Rhaegar was pulled back to wakefulness before he could see any more. He blinked three times, trying to recall what he had just seen. It would not come to him unfortunately. He had a feeling, though, that Lyanna was with child, the Prince that was Promised.

When he set out on his journey to reunite with his wife, a host at his back, he knew what the first thing he would ask her was going to be. Then, no matter what came of the next days, he would rejoice with the love of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lady Olenna meets a woman much like herself at that age, but maybe a little more humble. A plan is lady out and a journey is made, where holy men confirm a prince is on the way.


	3. Thick as Thieves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lady Olenna Tyrell joins Lyanna the Kingsguard as she journeys north, offering her opinions and wisdom. Thankfully, Lyanna is of a similar temperament. Lyanna receives a confirmation and tells Rhaegar of a prophetic sighting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to say, this was one of the most fun chapters I have ever written! Just the idea of these two characters having the chance to interact was too much to pass up, even if I had to do a lot of twisting to set it up. And I hope there is some logic here. As always, if there are fudgings of distances, sorry. I'm trying my best, but sadly, there doesn't seem to be a mileage measurement on the inside flap maps in the books, so it's a lot of guesstimating.
> 
> Also, I am currently (insanely) juggling three stories, so one may be slowed down significantly. I'm keeping an eye on my readings, here and fanfiction.net. Right now, however, this one is right now in second, but I'm also the furthest behind in number of chapters with it. But, we'll see. Keep reviewing, I love to hear from my readers!

Ser Arthur Dayne had often been amused by the tales he had heard about Lady Olenna Tyrell.  She was a formidable woman, most especially as the years crept along.  She would have to be.  There was not much of a good word about her son, Mace, with the words “idiot” and “oaf” often bandied about to describe him.  So, Arthur figured, she would feel the need to, at the very least, project strength for her house.

 

He sat atop his horse and watched the train ride up the Roseroad from Highgarden.  He was surprised to not see any carriage among them, but the lady herself riding astride.  He’d found most women of that generation would choose side saddle, but then again, he remembered the reputation of this particular lady.  “Lady Olenna Tyrell,” he said.  “I am Ser Arthur Dayne of His Grace’s Kingsguard.  I have been asked to escort you personally the remainder of the way,” then he looked at the numerous banners that rode with her, “alone, but for one of your personal house guards.”

 

While the woman herself merely raised an eyebrow to Arthur’s statement, one among her host raised a protest.  “We are charged with the safety of the Lady of House Tyrell.  We will be accompanying you,” Lord Randyll Tarly protested.

 

But Olenna merely rolled her eyes.  “If I cannot be safe in the company of the Kingsguard, Randyll, what makes you think you would do any better?” she asked sharply before returning her gaze to Ser Arthur.  “Besides, I may not even mind being unsafe in this man’s company.”

 

Arthur felt the blush rise in his cheeks.  “My Lord, I can assure you no harm will come to her.  You have my word on my honor as a knight.”

 

“That is assurance enough for me,” Olenna declared, directing her horse forward over any further protest, and the three set off.  When they were leagues away from where the Tyrell host was left, Olenna ushered her horse alongside Arthur’s.  “Personally I would like to thank you for your insistence on leaving behind Tarly and his men.  Man has never been in my favor.  He insisted on coming with me when the raven scroll arrived.  I told him them that I had no need of his forces for the trip.”

 

The kingsguard had to laugh at that.  “Rhaegar told us before we parted he made a similar statement to our company.”

 

They rode in silence for a while longer until Olenna broke it.  “Now, pray tell why my presence has been asked for.  The prince said I was needed to bring a package, but nothing more specific.”

 

“I have been sworn to secrecy for our journey,” he told her, receiving a glare in return.  “Apologies, but the less said until we arrive, the better.”

 

“You do take your duty seriously,” she said, almost sounding as if she admired it about him.

 

“Nothing is more important.  We live in perilous times.  If I shirk my duty, much could be lost,” he replied.  Arthur was  surprised when there was no response from her, so they finished their journey in companionable silence.

 

It was early evening when they arrived at the encampment near Tumbleton.  Lord Commander HIghtower spotted them and met them near a group of trees where three horses already were.  He assisted Lady Tyrell off her horse.  “Arthur, good to see nothing stopped your progress.”

 

“My bannerman, Tarly, tried to insist he and his forces come, but Ser Arthur explained only I and one of my own guards were allowed.  It almost made me laugh, the shades of color his face turned at that.”  Being that Lady Olenna was several inches shorter than either of the men, she tried to look around, an attempt to figure out what the story was.  “Now, can you tell me why I was requested to be here?  I find mysteries to be most tedious.”

 

Gerold nodded and led them to a large tent that bore the three-headed dragon sigil.  But instead of entering it, they walked to the back where, in the firelight, Oswell was sparing with another in full metal plate.  When they were noticed, the session ended.

 

“Lady Tyrell, a pleasure to meet you,” he said, even though she paid him no attention.  Instead, the Queen of Thorns looked at his partner.

 

“And who might this be?  I can see your shield.  Are you the knight that stirred the king’s paranoia at Harrenhal?” she asked.  When said knight only nodded, the old woman let out, “Come then, reveal yourself to me.”

 

The voice that came was muffled by the helm.  “I am sorry to correct you, my lady, but I am no proper knight, even if that had been my wish when I was a child.”

 

Lady Tyrell narrowed her eyes even further,  “Then who are you?”  At that question, the person’s identity was revealed.  It seemed to shock Olenna.  “Lady Lyanna Stark?  The Crown Prince has at last decided to free you?”

 

“No, my lady,” Arthur interjected, by way of an introduction.  “This is not Lady Lyanna Stark.”  A shy smile flashed on the younger woman’s face.  “This is Princess Lyanna of House Stark and Targaryen.”

 

Olenna’s head spun to him, and only a series of croaks came from her lips.  It seemed the impossible had been accomplished.  The Queen of Thorns was rendered speechless.

 

Not long afterwards, after Oswell had cooked a light supper of venison and greens they had picked up along the way, Olenna wanted answers.  “I am not entirely understanding what has been happening.”  She turned her attention fully on Lyanna.  “You were not kidnapped, the prince annulled his marriage to Elia and married you, and you have been hiding out in Dorne?  I must say, Rhaegar Targaryen has big brass ones to hide you within his brother-in-law’s kingdom.”

 

“Elia was in full agreement with the annulment,” Lyanna insisted.  “The original reason they were married was merely to stave off Tywin and Cersei Lannister’s ambitions.  Rhaegar chose her quickly, but, well…”  She shrugged her shoulders.  “As to the location, it was Elia’s, a gift from her mother when she turned three and ten name days.  She was the one who suggested it.”

 

“Still, marry in haste, repent in leisure.”  Olenna seemed to understand.  “But why was it believed that you were kidnapped?  Didn’t you think it a good idea to leave a note in explanation?”

 

“I did!” Lyanna cried.  “When we left the Twins after having met up with Hoster and Lysa Tully, I handed the note to her directly, telling her to wait one night until she gave it to Brandon.”

 

“I have known Lysa for a little while, your grace.  That may have been the wrong person to entrust such a missive to,” Oswell said.

 

“And knowing of Robert Baratheon’s reputation, I think it likely he went to the worst possibility,” Olenna added.  

 

“I have little doubt Brandon ran with that assumption directly to the king.  Woe is he who tries to make demands to a madman,” Gerold agreed.  When he noticed Lyanna wipe a tear away, he looked ashamed.  “My lady, I did not mean…”

 

“No, you are not far wrong there.  Father always said Brandon had the wolf’s blood in him.  We both did,” she said, calming herself and him.  “I wept for my brother and my father, but they only believed they were defending my honor.  That is why I must head north as Rhaegar also marches there.  I must, we both must, explain ourselves before my brother Ned and Robert, and together, we all must overthrow the king.”  Then she sat straighter, every ounce of her projecting nobility.  “Lady Tyrell, what of your House’s forces?  I know they fight for the crown but…”

 

“My idiot son had delusions of glorious battle.  He had planned to send House Tarly to lay siege to Storm’s End, but then I received the message to come here, and Randyll was obstinate in his insistence on accompanying me,” Olenna sighed.  “Now, very likely, he will return to Highgarden and at last be sent on the fool’s campaign.” Then she looked around to the men.  “Do any of you have a plan on bringing our princess back to her family and husband?”

 

Gerold nodded.  “What we worked out before we left the Tower of Joy and then Summerhall was to shelter at the Isle of Faces if possible, Harrenhal if not.  Rhaegar will let us know when he arrives.”

 

“My Lady, we were thinking you can be the one to parley for us.  Yes, you are pledged to the crown, but no one on their side will doubt your wisdom and honor if you are sent to speak on our behalf,” Arthur said.

 

“And you also have the ability to call fools when you see them,” Lyanna smirked, “you have that much respect within the realm.”

 

Olenna gave her a smile as Arthur continued.  “You would return with Lord Stark, Lord Arryn and Lord Baratheon to meet with the prince and princess.  Rhaegar has been planning to oust his father for a while and with luck, they can see reason and focus on the true enemy, King Aerys.”

 

Olenna seemed to understand what they were doing and why she was needed.  “All well and good, but what if this plan goes tit’s up?  Have you anything else?”  The three knights and the lady shared a look amongst each other.  “That’s what I feared.”

 

“My lady,” Lyanna said, “if it does go as eloquently as you describe, then all hope is lost, not just for us, but our children, our grandchildren and our bloodlines for the rest of eternity.”

 

The grand old lady of the Reach raised her eyebrows and sighed.  “Well, as it is not so critical…”  She nodded her head.  “I will assist you to the best of my ability, Your Grace.”  Then she stood and cutsied deeply to the princess and, when finished, turned to the men.  “Now, leave us.  We have womanly matters to discuss.”

 

Her look showed she meant no argument, and the three were smart enough to oblige.  When they were away, Olenna pulled up a chair next to where she had been sitting and patted the seat.  “I do have questions for you, young lady, that I don’t think those men would appreciate hearing.”

 

“They are quite aware of the conditions of things, my lady,” Lyanna assured her.  “They, along with Ser Barristan, have been with the prince and I the whole time.”

 

Lady Tyrell smiled.  “I figured that out myself.  No, what I have to ask you is, have your truly thought this out?  There is a saying about the Targaryens and madness--”

 

“‘Every time a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin,’” Lyanna quoted.  “Yes, I am well aware of it.”

 

“You do know there are whispers about your husband,” she told the girl. 

 

“I am aware of them, but they are the furthest from the truth,” Lyanna replied.  “I know he is not perfect.  There is a melancholia about him, and he tends to live too much in his head.  But he has never been anything but kind to me and gentle.  I know your counterargument.  ‘Aerys was kind in the beginning.’  But I have never seen anything of a manifestation of his father’s condition.”

 

Olenna nodded.  “You know, I was to be betrothed to a Targaryen, but I personally thought the entire scheme ridiculous.  I made a play for the man I chose.  Lost a sister in the process, but Luthor and Viola were ill-suited for each other.”  She seemed to be thinking for a minute.  “Why such a dire prediction if we fail?”

 

At that, Lyanna took a gulp of air.  To most of Westeros, it sounded like a fantasy used to scare children and would not reflect well on Rhaegar, or her.  “Have you heard the legends of the Long Night or, from the North, about the Others?”  Olenna was about to answer, but was stopped. “I know how they sound.  Even when I was a child, I thought them stories made up by Old Nan.  But after we met, Rhaegar would write to me of what he was doing, studying legends, prophecies of the future.  What he learned sounded just like the stories I had been raised on.  And I do truly believe that there is something greater coming for the whole of Westeros.”

 

“But what does that have to do with the two of you in particular?”

 

“One of the last nights we were at the Tower of Joy, after we had lain together, I saw a comet streak across the sky,” Lyanna began.

 

“Yes, I remember seeing that as well.  It was about a moon ago,” Olenna replied.

 

“One of the legends say that a prince that was promised would lead the battle against the Others, the Battle of the Dawn.  His coming would be heralded by a red star in the night’s sky.”  Olenna tilted her head as if absorbing the words.  “And I have been without my bloods for five weeks.  I have never had one that was delayed even a day.”

 

A single nod of the head, and the woman came to a decision.  “When we get closer to Harrenhal, I want a proper maester to look at you.  You’d be far enough along to be positive.”  She sighed, but a smile touched her lips.  “I do think there is a degree of hokum to all of this, truthfully, but I am willing to take a leap of faith, if for no other reason than to end this war.  It may be thought noble by your brother and Baratheon, but it is scorching the land even as I suspect another winter is near.”  She stood and stretched.  “What are your words, again?”

 

“‘Winter is coming’,” Lyanna answered.  

 

Another smile, brighter than any before.  “When you get to my age, you’ll be able to pinpoint it exactly, my dear.  Now, it has been a long day, and I am old and tired.”

 

“We are a small encampment, so I suggested a bed be placed in here, with me.  And I’d be glad to help you in any way you need for the rest of our journey,” the Princess offered.

 

Olenna seemed to hesitate, but Lyanna tried to impress on her the offer was given freely, despite of a reversal in rank.  She nodded in agreement and Lyanna began to help her prepare for bed.  “You Northerners are very different.  I like that.  Best we be taken down a peg or two, show some humility.”  

 

“You honor me with your words, my lady,” she replied.  “My Lady, you said you had other questions for me, but I can recall only one.”

 

“Ah, yes,” Olenna responded, pointing her finger in aid of her memory.  “Why are we attempting to go to the Isle of Faces?  That make little sense to me.”

 

“It is a sacred place for the worshippers of the Old Gods.  They will allow us shelter while we wait for Rhaegar to arrive in the Riverlands, since I am with you.”

 

The next sound out of Olenna Tyrell was a harrumph.  “And there is one thing I dislike about the North.  You are all  far too superstitious.”  By then, the Queen of Thorns was finished preparing for bed and Lyanna helped her down onto the bed that was readied for her.  “But I can see why your dragon prince and you fit well together.  I pray all the blessings of the Seven on the pair of you, even if I have my doubts about their existence.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They traveled on for another month and as the time went on, Olenna Tyrell became more and more impressed with Lyanna Stark.  She was kind, helpful, strong-willed, stubborn at times, not one to shrink in the face of troubles.  Olenna learned the whole story about the Knight of the Laughing Tree, and Olenna said bravo to that.  

 

And, as the time passed, it became more and more obvious to the two of them that she was indeed pregnant, even if the men did not seem to notice.  But she bore it well, a secret between ladies, until they reached the God’s Eye, the lake where the Isle of Faces was.  It was there that a hint  of what was on the way was great enough to make Sers Gerold, Arthur and Oswell understand.  

 

Lyanna stood at the shores of the lake with Olenna by her side.  “Now that we are here,” Lady Tyrell asked, “how will we let them know of our presence?”

 

Lyanna pulled a dirk from her back and pricked her finger, drawing blood.  “It is the blood of the First Men that is a method to signal them,” she said, bending down and dipping the wound in the water.  The blood mingled with the waters of the lake and then, unnaturally fast, a boat could be seen emerging from the mist.

 

A man stood on it, cloaked in green with a hood covering his eyes.  He looked from Lyanna to Olenna and back.  “Who is it with the blood of the First Men?” he asked, his gaze upon the older woman.

 

“Not I, sir.  I am Andal, through and through,” she remarked.  “This is the woman who is descended from them.”

 

“I am Lyanna, daughter of Rickard Stark and wife of Prince Rhaegar Targaryen.  I seek shelter and protection on your blessed isle,” she announced, everything a queen to be.

 

The man stepped off the boat and approached her.  When he was close enough, his hand shot to her stomach so fast, the Kingsguards had no time to react.  But they did draw their swords, making to protect the princess.  Lyanna, though, held out her hand to indicate they should stop.

 

The man ignored the whole scene, withdrawing his hand a moment later.  “You are permitted entry, you and your comrades.”  Nothing else was said and he returned to the boat, waiting for the other to join him.

 

Lyanna nodded.  “Let’s go.”  She stepped onto the boat, her face showing a bit of annoyance that no one followed.

 

Olenna turned to the men.  “Come along, boys.  Best we not keep them waiting any longer.”

 

As they made their way across the water, Arthur, his eyes wary of the pilot, asked Lyanna, “You allowed him to molest you in such a way?  My lady, that must be challenged!”

 

She smiled sweetly as she gave her answer.  “He had to know all that he was protecting.”  Then she placed a hand on her stomach.

 

The looks on the three men’s faces was priceless to Olenna.  “It seems that all men are indeed thick,” she muttered.  “Have none of you seen that she cannot eat a bite until midday?  That the rabbit you catch for many of our meals makes her green?”  She looked truly surprised.  “Have none of you younger siblings?  I know you vow to take no wife, but surely you have some understanding of a woman with child!”

 

None of them seemed to form a sentence until they reached the island.  There, they found a spot where they made camp, not far from the small village where the Green Men lived.  When they were settled, it was Oswell who had the first word.  “I will enjoy seeing the prince’s face when he learns of this!”

 

“You have known, Your Grace?  For how long?” Arthur asked.  

 

Lyanna turned her gaze to her lap.  “From the very moment.  I saw a sign in Dorne, but I couldn’t tell Rhaegar, not after I had convinced him to let me leave.  He would have gone back on his permission, had he known.”

 

“My lady, you should have at least let us know.  We could have taken precautions as the need arose,” Gerold chided her.

 

“I will not be treated any differently because of this,” she informed them.  “Not until there is a need.  And I want you to swear none will tell the prince until I am ready.”

 

“And when will that be?”  It was Oswell’s turn to get his voice heard on the matter.

 

She grimaced, having made her decision and informed Olenna of it a few days ago.  “When we meet up with the other side,” she said.  “I hope it will not come to me having it out there is such a way, but if need be…”

 

“Men can get more stubborn when they know of a child on the way,” Olenna advised.  “Is it wise to not tell the father beforehand?”

 

She seemed to think it over.  “You are correct, Lady Tyrell.  I will tell my husband as soon as possible after we are together.  But swear to me that none of you tips your hand.”  She shot a pointed look at Oswell.  They all agreed, though all with a degree of reluctance.

 

In the end, it turned out that their stay on the Isle of Face was to be short.  That was a bit of a disappointment to Lady Olenna.  She found  peace she felt nowhere else within the Seven Kingdoms.  But they had a mission to complete, and a couple to reunite.

 

The raven’s message said for them to come to the shore close to Harrenhal.  And when they were close enough, even with her poor eyesight, she was able to make out the unmistakable appearance of a Targaryen.  She had to smile when the princess did not even wait for the boat to make it to the shore.  The young woman jumped out, half up her waist in water.  But if there was one thing Olenna Tyrell learned during these travels, it was that there was a true connection between the couple.  She would do her damnedest to ensure they had a long, happy life together.

 

Olenna waited until they docked, and even blushed when the prince himself aided her out of the boat.  She made a small curtsy in appreciation.  “Thank you, my lord.”

 

“No, my lady, thank you.  You and the Kingsguard returned my wife to me safe and whole,” he said, gazing into Lyanna’s eyes.

 

It was almost too sweet for the older woman, a cynic by nature.  But she was being all to reasonable now, without that special touch she supposed people came to expect of her.  “Safe, whole, and with a little extra,” she replied, a twinkle in her eye as she walked to the encampment.

 

They were all following when Lyanna Stark turned to her, the look of the wolf on her face while the prince just looked confused.  “I thought you swore to me that you would not say a thing!” she cried, smoldering fury on her face.

 

“You swore those three,” Olenna correct her, pointing to Gerold, Oswell and Arthur.  “I made you no such vow.”

 

“All the same--” Lyanna began to argue.

 

“I am sorry, my lady, but what are you speaking of?” Rhaegar asked, still not understanding.

 

He looked to his wife, who bit her lip as she hesitated.  When his eyes implored her more, she began.  “One of the last night we were in Dorne, the night you received the scroll from King’s Landing, after we made love, I saw something in the night sky.”  It looked to Olenna like he was catching on, but holding back until confirmation.  “I tried to wake you to see it with me, truly, but nothing I did was able to rouse you.  But I saw it and Lady Olenna noticed it as well, all the way at Highgarden.  It was a red comet.”

 

“A red comet?”  Had the prince not heard her?  This was one thing she always hated about men, how they had to be told things more than once.

 

But Lyanna remained patient.  “Yes, my love,” she said, stopping and taking the hand she had clasped in his to her stomach.

 

Now Rhaegar’s eyes alighted in pure, unadulterated joy.  “A child!  You are expecting a child?”

 

Lyanna’s head nodded vigorously.  “There was a healer among the Green Men.  He confirmed I am with child.”  She was trying to stay calm, but her voice was overcome with a range of emotions.

 

Rhaegar picked her up and spun her around, causing such a commotion that the prince’s soldiers gave them many strange looks.  When she was on the ground again,  he stepped back, his voice breathless.  “A prince, and so soon.  I can hardly believe it.  Truly, it is a sign our course is true.  We must tell your brother and the others when we meet.  This, our joy, can show them they were wrong in their beliefs.”

 

“Best hold that card until it’s necessary,” Lady Tyrell advised.  “I think it will go a long way, yes, but some may not be as happy as the two of you.”  Then she looked around the camp.  “Now, someone will show me to my tent.  I think it best if we leave the happy couple alone for the rest of the night, eh?”  And with that, Rhaegar and Lyanna were left alone, basking in their reunion.      

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ned is reunited with someone who's been missing, while Robert's unwillingness to hear the other side leads to betrayal. Lyanna received a confirmation and tells Rhaegar of a prophetic sighting


	4. The Dragon Entreats the Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lady Olenna comes to the rebels on behalf of the Prince. Ned is reunited with family. Betrayal lurks in the midst of understanding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I have no knowledge of military tactics. Lucky, I have a retired Army colonel for a father who does. Or can at least confirm there is some logic in troop movements. Also, this story may be slowing down significantly. I have another chapter written but am having a tough time with the following one. But please, as always, let me know what you think. It give me encouragement to fight through the writer's block. And thank you for the continued subscriptions, kudos, comments and bookmarks. It is nice to know someone is reading my work!
> 
> Other than that, standard disclaimers as always.

“They seek their own destruction!” Robert Baratheon bellowed from beside Ned Stark. “So be it. We will bring them the fire and blood they so crave.”

Lord Eddard Stark looked at his best friend, and then back at the map on the table. There were a number of dragons across it, with more added from day to day, it seemed. “The fact remains that we are quickly becoming outnumbered,” he said. 

“I have called for more troops from the Vale,” Lord Jon Arryn said, trying to calm matters. “But it will take time for them to cross over the mountains.”

“And by then,” Ned considered, “they could have ten time the number. If we are to be smart about a battle, we must play this differently.”

“To Hells with that. We can face them in any way. Their soldiers are more than likely untested and have had a long journey. Best we exploit--”

But he was not able to finish the thought. “My Lord, a rider is approaching camp, carrying a white flag!” Ethan Glover said breathlessly. “They also have the banner of House Tyrell.”

That made little sense to Ned. He knew, of course, that the Reach was pledged to the crown, but he did not expect to see any of their men this far north. He hurried out of the tent, Robert and Jon behind him. From this distance, the figure on the horse was unrecognizable, but appeared to be sitting side saddle. For a moment, he thought he heard Robert say the name “Lyanna”, but Ned had never known his sister to sit anyway but astride, no matter how much their lord father impressed it upon her. 

Then the figure arrived and it certainly wasn’t his sister. The woman atop the horse was much older, nearer the age of his departed grandmother than a girl of six and ten. It was Jon, at last, who identified her. “Lady Tyrell, they have sent you?” he said, unable to hide the shock from his voice.

“Don’t look too surprised, Lord Arryn,” she said. “It appears to me that you need a mother to sort all you boys out. Now, who will be a gentleman and help me down?” Ned gathered himself and stepped forward for the assistance. She gave him a smile. “I would have expected no other.”

“My lady, is the prince so worried he would call in an old lady?” Robert asked to Ned’s shock.

She may have appeared to be unaffected, but Ned saw the annoyance creep upon her face. “I have been involved in more negotiations than you will ever be, Lord Baratheon. You are as subtle as your warhammer. Now, may we please take shelter. I did not like trying to cross the river and it is night out.” Ned offered Olenna his arm, but he noticed Robert’s less than pleased look. He chose to ignore it as they returned to the tent. “Thank you, my lord,” she said as she sat in Robert’s chair and took a sip of wine from Robert’s goblet. He knew she had no way to know whose it was, but she seemed to intuit all the same. “I have come at the request of your Lord Prince, Rhaegar of House Targaryen.”

“The dragonspawn!” Robert yelled.

Olenna looked more annoyed than afraid. “Your’s is indeed the fury,” she cut in. “Remember, my lord, you are kin to that dragonspawn. Your grandmother, was it who had the Valyrian blood? No matter.” She dismissively waved off the bluster. 

“And why would we want to meet with the Prince?” Jon asked, trying to cool tempers. 

“Because, Jon, in the aftermath of all this, you have failed to see what you have in common with the prince.” No one had anything say to that, so she continued. “Many of you were invited to Harrenhal last year by Rhaegar himself. Did you think it was merely for an exhibition of manhood?”

“Before we all left, my father thought he had heard of the prince’s concern for the king’s state of mind,” Ned offered, remember something half-heard.

“Yes, there was more than a tourney intended for those days. Unfortunately, the king decided to make the journey as well, putting an end to any attempted plots and plans.” Olenna smiled at him like the maester did when he was correct in his studies. “And then it got totally derailed by the knight in mismatched armour. Aerys was in a tizzy about that.”

“Then Rhaegar decided to set his sights on my betrothed! A woman who has most certainly been defiling these many months!” Robert, again. He was so out of control, Ned did not know how to deal with it.

But Olenna Tyrell smiled as if she knew more than they would ever know. “He presented her with a crown of roses. I have never heard of a woman get with child in that way. Besides, any number of women there would have been pleased by such attention.” She turned to Ned. “And what was your sister’s reaction?”

“The Princess Elia was surely not pleased,” Jon pointed out.

“Does no one remember that Elia Martell is of the royal house of Dorne? They are seen as obscene in their regards to the goings on of men and women,” Lady Tyrell pointed right back. “And besides, it was a political marriage. When are any of those love stories?” There were more protest about to be raised, but she waved the lot of them off. “Let us not go over history again. I was asked by Prince Rhaegar to bring a request for the presence of Lord Eddard Stark, Lord Robert Baratheon and Lord Jon Arryn tomorrow between the Red Fork and the Blue Fork, south of Fairmarket. Oh, and he would also like Lord Howland Reed there was well.”

Ned furrowed his brow at that. He was surprised Reed had even joined him when called, as the crannogmen were notoriously hard to contact and not terribly inclined to answer if it was done. They were fine defender of the North, but it was rare they left their swamps. 

“Why the crannogman?” Robert asked. “He is no kind of warrior.”

“But he is one with a perspective that the prince feels is needed,” Olenna finished. She seemed to be waiting for a response after that.

“I can see nothing amiss about that. But I do want one thing,” Ned spoke up for all of them. “I want to know where my sister is from Rhaegar directly and immediately.”

“Done!” she exclaimed, too quickly for Ned’s liking. “Now, will someone show me to a tent? And I’d like a camp follower to attend me.” They all gave her horrified looks. “Unless any of you will be helping me undress for bed. I know there are some around here. They will know what to do for me, as they do it for you men.”

Jon was about to step forward to come to Lady Tyrell’s side, but Ned stepped in. “I will see the Lady Olenna to a tent.” Without another word, he took her arm through his and left the meeting tent. 

When they were at a distance, Ned turned to her. “My Lady, from things you have said, I get a feeling that you are much more aware of matters than any of us. Could you enlighten me for our meeting tomorrow?”

She merely smiled, saying nothing until an empty tent flying the Stark banners was found. They walked in, with the older woman giving it an appraising eye. Then she turned back to him, the wisdom of the Crone emanating from her very being. “My Lord Stark, I share your grief at the loss of your father and brother. It was an unjust and cruel act of a madman. But I think you are smart enough to see that there is folly in the coming battle. Not because of the numbers, but of what you know of your foe. I am sure you have come to hear stories about Prince Rhaegar. In all you have heard, could you think of him as a perpetrator of the crimes you believe him guilty of?” She placed her hand on his shoulder, gently caressing his face with affection. “And do you really think your sister would allow herself to be taken so easily? Is she not a wolf? Can you really cage her?” The tent’s flap was opened and a young woman stood outside. “Think it over in preparation for tomorrow. Now, I need my beauty sleep. And I would not wish for this woman to not earn her normal daily wages.” And with that, he was dismissed.

He was about to make his way back to the tent with Robert and John when he caught sight of the banners of House Reed. Thinking on what had been discussed, he walked over and found Lord Howland Reed among his men, eating by a fire. “Lord Reed,” he said upon his approach.

Howland Reed stood up immediately after hearing his name called. “Lord Stark!” he replied, surprised to see his liege lord. “You honor me with your visit. What is it I can do to serve you?”

Ned looked to the men and Reed sent them away. “Lady Olenna Tyrell is here in camp with us, arranging a parley with the Targaryens. Lord Baratheon, Lord Arryn and myself will be going to it tomorrow morning. But the lady also requested that you attend it as well,” Ned explained. 

The other man took a stuttered breath. “A great honor indeed. Yes, I will absolutely come.”

“Do you know why you were asked for? She said something of a different perspective, but I cannot think of such a reason,” Ned asked him.

Reed looked to be thinking on it but shook his head. “There is no reason I can see for it, actually.” But there was something about his demeanour that felt strange to Ned. 

“I know you befriended my sister at Harrenhal. Could it have something to do with that?” he questioned again.

“I really am not sure, my lord,” came the reply.

There was still a niggling thought running through Eddard’s head, but he had no idea how else to question it. He simply nodded. “Well, we leave at first light. Meet us at the entrance to camp with your horse.”

“Aye, my lord, I will. Good night, Lord Stark.”

Ned shook off his thoughts as he returned to Jon and Robert. But when he arrived, only Jon Arryn was there. “Where has Robert gone off to?” he asked his foster father.

“He is refusing to attend the parley. He said the only way he would face Rhaegar Targaryen is with his hammer in hand. I will go to him in the morning, see if he calmed down, get him to come with us,” Jon informed him. “Ned, I can’t understand the strategy the prince is trying at here. It makes no sense for him to have the numbers he has and offer what sounds like an explanation for everything.”

“Lady Olenna said something to me about Rhaegar’s actions not fitting with the personality he is known to have,” Ned replied, deep in thought. “And while I did not admit anything to the lady, she struck a cord.”

“How so?” 

“My sister trained as much as Father would allow her with Brandon, Benjen and myself. She was good enough to knock me on my ass a number of time. But from the way Robert heard it had happened, there was no fight to stop her taking,” Ned confided. 

“He had Kingsguard with him,” Jon reminded the man who was a son to him.

“And they would dishonor their vows with such an act?” The more he thought it through, the more he saw Olenna Tyrell’s points. “We are missing something here, and I feel I can almost reach it.” But whatever it was, it remained elusive, after Jon left him and while he slept. When the sun rose, it was no closer than it had been the night before.

He dressed and made his way to his horse. Howland and Jon were there, but he did not see Robert. “Where is Lord Baratheon?” he asked.

“I am not sure. When I went to fetch him, my way was stopped by his men,” Jon said as Ned sat his horse. “And I was told he would not be joining us, ‘on this fool’s errand’ was the exact quote.”

That was not good. He had half a mind to drag his foster brother out of bed and across the fork. But then Lady Olenna rode up beside the three. “Robert not here? Color me shocked. Alright then. You three would be by far the most reasonable.”

They and a selection of guards followed the Queen of Thorns back to the enemy camp. Upon their arrival, Ser Barristan Selmy met them at the edge. “My Lords,” he said bowing to all. “My Lady.”

“Please tell the prince I have succeeded, to some degree at least,” she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Now the fun begins.”

Selmy cocked his eye to her, but returned to the men. “As a show of good faith, my Lords Stark, Arryn and Reed may remain armed while in camp. Besides, I don’t think any are foolish enough to try anything with themselves surrounded.” Then he looked around once more. “Where is Lord Baratheon?”

“Chose not to attend,” Olenna answered succinctly.

“Mmmm,” was all the reply from the Kingsguard. “Follow me please.”

They were led to a large tent, naturally flying the Targaryen dragons. Ser Arthur Dayne, Ser Oswell Whent and Lord Commander Gerold Hightower took point on both sides of the flap. Barristan stopped and opened it for the men.

Stepping inside, Eddard found the crown prince sitting behind a table with a map on it. Next to him was another knight, but this one had a collection of various pieces of armour, no two the same. He knew who this person was immediately.

Before he could say anything, Rhaegar stood up, extending his hand to the men. “Lord Arryn, Lord Reed,” he said before turning to Ned. “Lord Stark. I thank you for coming to see me. I trust all went well, Lady Olenna.”

“Unfortunately, Robert decided against this meeting,” she said, sitting beside the table facing the three lords.

Rhaegar sighed and reached for a coin pouch. “I see you were correct,” he said to the knight, who reached out his hand and accepted the coin without a word. 

“Why have you asked us here, my lord?” Ned demanded, no time for stunts. “Where is my sister?”

Olenna looked to Rhaegar. “It was his only condition, the location of the Lady Lyanna be told to him by you upon his immediate arrival.” Now Ned could see the conspiratorial looks between the two.

Without a further word, he looked to the knight in mismatched armour. “And so he will have it.” With a nod to him, he removed his helm. But it was no man.

Ned and Jon both gasped out, “Lyanna!” There was his sister, rosy cheeked and eyes shining, a wide smile on her face. She did not appear to have a scratch on her, something of a surprise after what he had been thinking this whole time.

Lyanna could not stand still any longer. She ran around the table and flung herself into her brother’s arms. “Hello, big brother!” She was giddy with delight in his presence.

For his part, Ned was not understanding any of this. “What? How?” He shook his head, thinking he was dreaming. “You are here?”

Her head bobbed up and down so hard, he thought it may fly off. “I missed you so much,” was all she said.

Now he looked to Rhaegar. “You are just releasing her?” Not that he was unhappy to see her, but it seemed too easy.

Jon must have thought so as well. “I think an explanation is needed,” he said.

Olenna Tyrell seemed to think the same thing. “Yes, there will be that, and copious amounts of wine.”

But it was Rhaegar who began. “This has been a tragedy of missed communications, assumptions and I think intentional misdirections,” he said. “And I cannot express my…” He seemed to not be able to find the words. “It should never have happened, any of it. Especially the fate of your father and brother.”

“There was no kidnapping, Ned. We had planned for me to meet up with him and several of the Kingsguard on the way to Riverrun. I even wrote a letter, with as much detail as I could. I can only assumed it was lost,” Lyanna said, tears forming in her eyes.

“Or never handed over,” Olenna murmured loud enough to be heard.

“What letter?” It was the first he was hearing of any letter his sister may have sent.

“We should start at the beginning of the tale,” Rhaegar said as chairs were brought in. It did not escape Ned’s notice that the one for Lyanna was placed right next to the princes, or that when she stepped back, their held were hands in each others. “The reason I favored Lyanna at the conclusion of the Tourney at Harrenhal was because she could not claim a prize herself.” He looked to Howland, who was turning bright red. “She was the knight who defeated the three lords and demanded they reprim their squires for the attack on Lord Reed. Because of my father’s...reaction, her identity could not be revealed. So, when I won, I wished to have her recognized in some small manner.”

“He found me as I was shedding myself of the armour and told me of his admiration for my actions. He assured me he would keep my secret from the king,” Lyanna added. 

“It was because of that act of chivalry that I first fell in love with her.” Rhaegar may be been speaking to them, but his eyes never left Lyanna. “From then on, we corresponded. I found her to have a keen mind and a, well, large degree of patience when I would write on and on about things I was investigating.”

“And I added to what he was reading about. In fact, before we left Winterfell, I packed a few books that I felt would help him. And over the months, we fell in love.”

“My lady, pardon me, but you were betrothed to Robert Baratheon,” Jon Arryn reminded her.

Lyanna looked as if she did not wish to think on it. “It was my father’s choice, and I fought it. I knew I could never put up with Robert’s drunkenness and whoring. But no one would listen to me, no one except Benjen.” Now she was pointedly looking to Ned, making him squirm.

Ned knew of the bond between his two youngest siblings. And his brother had communicated to him after Bran left for King’s Landing with confusion as to their eldest’s reaction. Then he remembered when he tried to assure her marriage would tame Robert. She had gently rejected the notion.

The picture was becoming clearer to him.

“I left a note for you with Lady Lysa Tully,” Lyanna continued, “who swore that the note would be delivered.”

“Lysa?” Jon asked, suddenly alarmed.

Lyanna would not have understand the impact of her statement, as she probably had not been aware of Jon’s marriage to Lysa. “After that, I met with Rhaegar and we made our way to the Red Mountains of Dorne. We were there for a few months when he returned to the capital and asked Elia for an annulment.”

“She readily agreed to it, especially when I told her our children would remain in the line of succession, but after any children I had with Lya,” Rhaegar said. “We have altered our agreement before I came here, Elia and I, but still, she was as eager to end our marriage as I.”

“How it got blown up into a kidnapping and rape, we have no idea. It was the farthest thing from it. I can assure you, dear brother, I remained a virgin until my wedding night,” Lyanna said to him.

“You are married?” It was unbelievable to him, everything he was being told. But then he remembered his conversation with Olenna the night before. All that she had hinted at fit with what they were telling him. 

“Before the High Septon, underneath a heart tree,” Lyanna informed them. “Nothing was forced on me. I am his and he is mine of my free will.” She was repeating the words of marriage in accordance with the Seven, vows he had just recently taken himself. As for the Old Gods, while the head of House Stark had not performed the ceremony, in their eyes, seen by a carved face on a weirwood, it was a binding marriage.

If the consummation was not the final word.

Then a thought came to Ned’s mind. Rhaegar had his hand lightly touching Lya’s stomach. “Are you…?” he asked, the breath leaving him.

Lyanna finally turned her attention back to him and with the slightest of motions, confirmed the fact. Her face set firm, though, as she spoke of their marriage further. “We have been remiss, our house, for a hundred years, brother,” she started. “An agreement was stuck between our families for a marriage, a Targaryen lady and a Stark man, during the Dance of Dragons. Surely, knowing all you now know, you would not have your word broken?” It was a cheap shot, but she had the smarts to find his soft spot. “We were kings of the North, once. And while I do not deny our ancestor’s wisdom in bending the knee, he mis-played his hand with the Conqueror afterwards.”

“I,” Rhaegar stepped in, trying to lessen the tension, “did not seek this as a form of payment, Lord Stark, believe me. But I could not ignore the signs I saw.”

“Signs, your grace?” Jon asked, curious as to the statement.

Lyanna’s gaze turned to Howland, who looked surprised. “You cannot mean…?”

“House Stark and House Velaryon signed the Pact of Ice and Fire. I am of the North, ice,” Lyanna began.

“And I have the blood of the dragon within me,” Rhaegar finished. “Fire.”

“When I first met Howland, after I chased away the bullies, I asked him why he would attend a tourney, the people of the Neck seldom leaving their domain. He said he was there for a song,” Lyanna concluded with Howland’s approval, it seemed, “A song of ice and fire.”

Anything that was to be said further on any of the topics was halted by the arrival of a Targaryen officer. “Your Grace, Your Grace, the rebel army is swinging, far to the east! Our scouts report seeing the banners of the Stormlands circling us in the direction of Lord Harroway’s Town. They are not engaging us, but marching down the Kingsroad.”

“What in blazes is Robert doing?” Jon thundered. Ned had never seen him this angry.

“Have they spotted any banners from Northern or Vale houses?” Ned asked, trying to assess the information.

“No, my lord,” came the answer. “In fact, there have been reports of skirmishes between houses with the North and Vale by the Stormlanders. We cannot be certain, but it seems the damage done will significantly slow their allies down.”

“Why would Robert attack us?” Jon asked, disbelief and confusion mixed on his face. There even seemed to be some hurt there, as if Robert was a son betraying his father.

Silence reigned until Rhaegar spoke, his voice grim. “There is only one explanation,” he said. “My cousin intends to take King’s Landing, the exact thing I was going to ask of you honorable men. I have been making plans to force my father’s removal, but I suspect Robert as the same plans, only with more force.”


	5. Rough Starts, Rougher Finishes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The depths of betrayal become evident, Lyanna concedes at last. Ned and Rhaegar bond. At the gates of King's Landing, bad news is delivered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know there is probably a little screwiness in the chronology of events here. All I can say is, remember a comment made by Olenna Tyrell a couple of chapters back. Because certain events don't happen, it allows a little leeway in the timeline here. Also, chalk part of it up to the fact that I still don't have a total grasp of travel time around the Seven Kingdoms. Sorry. All other standard disclaimer still apply. Enjoy!

As it turned out, Robert’s forces did far greater damage than had originally been thought, to infantry, cavalry and many of the boats pledged by Ned’s goodfather, Hoster Tully. It had been impossible to move anything for a week, meaning Robert had a week’s start on his former allies. A lot could happen in a week’s time, Lyanna knew, and she was afraid what that may be. She knew Robert’s temper to be near-uncontrollable, when provoked, and it seemed to be so great now, he didn’t want to be calmed and explained to.

While they were still assessing the losses to the forces brought by Ned, Lord Arryn and Lord Tully, she had spoken with many people, the lords themselves as well as trusted advisors to the men and even septons and septas. Those two, she felt, were unnecessary, but Hoster Tully, being a man deeply ingrained with the Seven, thought it best to have religious opinion added into the discussions about herself and Rhaegar. It gave her more than a little pleasure at seeing his face when the message came from the High Septon directly, verifying everything that had be said already.

Now, they were at least able to get some host together and make way for King’s Landing. When she announced she would be riding with them, Ned’s protest was the loudest. “Lya, you are with child!” he cried. He had come around to the fact of her marriage, even rejoiced in it. But she knew he’d not take kindly to the idea of her accompanying them.

Rhaegar merely sat back and watched the ensuing argument with a smirk fighting to reach his lips, while Jon Arryn remained neutral. Lyanna wasn’t sure which man was annoying her more at the moment, her brother, her husband or Ned’s foster father. She glared at her prince as she addressed the first of the trio. “Maybe you should ask your goodbrother the use it is to disallow me,” she said. “He is familiar with this kind of disagreement, as you should be as well.”

Ned turned to Rhaegar, beseeching help. He found none there. “If I had had my druthers, she would still be at the Tower of Joy in Dorne,” he said, sighing as he eyed Lyanna. 

“Brother,” she said, taking Ned’s hands in hers, “I have to go and make Robert hear reason, even as it stares him in the face. I am sorry it happened this way, but really, he was in love with an idea he had about me. Maester Walys wished to push our family more firmly into the politics of the Seven Kingdoms and he was the one who thought the match a good one. He painted me as a lovely, pliant maid, when even you know it is the furthest from the truth.” Then, looking to Lord Arryn, she added, “He was the one who suggested your fostering in the Vale, remember?”

“It was your maester who contacted mine, made the suggestion,” Jon agreed.

“What is this maester’s name? I recall hearing of a boy at the Citadel from the Reach called Walys Flowers. His mother was a Hightower and his father was an Archmaester,” Olenna Tyrell spoke up, putting forward the question.

“Yes, if I am remembering correctly, he was from the Reach. Rickard brought him up to Winterfell for a different take on the North.,” Jon replied.

Ned looked to her, nodding his head. “Aye, that is true, and yes, both suggestions were his.” He had found the maester an odd man, very out of place in the North, with little understanding, or desire for understand, the land and the House he served.. “As much as our Lord Father would wish it, even he would never have described you as pliant. And I am sorry, for not listening to you more and speaking up for you. You were right that Robert would not be tamed by marriage. I know of at least one bastard already, and medoubts it will be the last.”

A Stark guard appeared at the entrance to the tent they were seated in. “My Lord, Your Graces, Lord Tully have returned with Lady Stark.”

Ned acknowledged him and Lyanna prepared for a confrontations she were sure to come. She knew Catelyn Tully, no, Catelyn Stark, would blame her for Brandon’s death. Truth be told, Lyanna already did hersel. At the same time, she knew the letter she had written had not reached her brother, and there was only one person who knew of it. Lyanna planned to have words with Lady Arryn.

Catelyn Stark was soon inside the tent, her belly heavy with child. Ned had told her of their marriage, keeping the contract between their houses, and that she was already with child. It made her happy that their sons would be close in age and had the possibility of growing up together.

But from the look in the Lady Stark’s eyes, her hope for that seemed to be dwindling. “So it’s true!,” she snarled, taking on the countenance of a wolf at the moment. “When my lord father told me you had returned, I almost did not believe it.’ The other woman took a step closer and, without any more hesitation, slapped Lyanna.

The sound must have been easy enough to hear from outside the tent, because Ser Arthur Dayne appeared almost immediately, hand on the pommel of his sword. But Lyanna help her palm up to him, a silent command to stop. No one else spoke, the men registering different degrees of shock. “No, I deserved that,” she said, her grey eyes never leaving the blues of the other woman. “But that shall be the last time you are given the right.”

“It was because of you that Brandon is dead! He made haste to the king, demanded his son return you and was arrested for it. And then, your own father went to beg for his son’s life! Do you know what the Mad King did to them?” she cried, fury superseding upset as she said the words.

“I am very aware of what my father did, Lady Stark,” Rhaegar said. “But you said so yourself. He is a madman, paranoid yet powerful. He already had suspicions as to the loyalties of many of the lords of the realm and very likely jumped to the conclusion of it being an opening volley against him.”

“Do not think for one moment that I did not mourn my father or Brandon. I carry the burden for their deaths and it is something I will have to live with for the rest of my life,” Lyanna told her. Then she looked around. “Where is Lady Arryn?” she asked Hoster Tully.

The man shifted from one foot to the other, not looking at anyone. “When the raven arrived from Lord Stark, Cat was very upset, as you see. But my other daughter, she became agitated, moreso than one would expect. I asked her why she was and then she said she remembered the letter but claimed it was accidently dropped in the fire. She didn’t think it was of grave import until we heard from you.” He turned to both Starks. “I extend my sincere apologies for this...oversight.”

“Oversight?!” Olenna could not sound more incredulous if she tried, while Rhaegar’s voice rose to an unnaturally high volume. “This ‘oversight’ led to the deaths of two noblemen and because of that, war ensued.”

Lyanna joined his side. “My love, we cannot take back what has happened. The here and now is all that matters.” Her soothing touch seemed to calm the dragon that lurked beneath the surface. 

“Her Grace is right,” Jon Arryn said. He had made no comment about any of the facts that had been presented, especially any regarding his wife. “We must make haste for the capitol. I fear for the city in the path of Robert’s rage. It seems that the Stormlanders were aided in the majority of their crossing the rivers by House Frey.”

Hoster Tully huffed out a breath. “Gods damn Walder Frey, but I am not surprised. He has been ambitious beyond his station for a while. I would not be surprised if he offered to aid Lord Baratheon with a repayment expected later.”

The men huddled around the map, ignoring Olenna, Lyanna and Catelyn. The lady of the Reach rose and gathered the two young women. “Come, let us leave them to their battles. I think it best we talk on this subject further.”

The three went to Lady Olenna’s tent where a plate of fruit and cheeses waited for them. Lyanna sat on one side, while Catelyn struggled to make herself comfortable in her chair. “When is the child due, my lady?” she asked at last, trying to find a way to break the tension that was still between them. Cat’s eyes regarded her with suspicion, leading Lyanna to add, “I am with child as well. Our children will be cousins, a fact I am glad of.”

“The baby is due in a moon, according to the maester,” she said, accepting a glass of sweet wine from a girl who had been hired to wait on Lady Tyrell. 

“I think I will be a little longer. But our sons will be close in age, a wonderful thing for children,” Lyanna replied.

“How do you know it is a son?” Catelyn asked, her eyes more weary.

“I have seen many women with child. Her Grace shows all the signs of a boy,” Olenna answered, stopping, Lyanna was sure, from explanations of prophecies and omens. Then she smiled at Catelyn, though not warmly. “As do you.”

“My maester thinks it’s a girl,” Catelyn admitted. “But I hope for a son.”

There was another silence that Lyanna chose to break with an admission. “My Lady, may I speak frankly with you?” At the cautious nod, she continued. “Understand I loved my brother Brandon, dearly. But, if I were to give you consul, I should say that Ned will make a much finer husband than our elder brother.” She smiled as she was caught up in her memories. “Brandon and I were quite alike, wild and untamed. Father used to call it the ‘wolf’s blood’. And you are well aware of how charming he was.”

“Yes, he was. He always had a smile, a jape. He was great fun to be around. Unlike, I think, Lord Eddard,” Catelyn admitted.

“Yes, very unlike Ned,” Lyanna confirmed. “Ned is steadfast and loyal and true. And Brandon...” She let her voice fade with her words.

Cat understood her meaning. “Most men do,” she stated, as if the truth was obvious.

Lyanna smiled, but shook her head. “I can assure you, Ned would never. And if it did seem that way, there is more there than meets the eye.” When Cat looked at her again, she seemed a little more relaxed.

“I am sorry for earlier,” she apologized.

“No, you were right to be angry at me,” Lyanna said. “I should have done things differently. I should have been more honest with my father and my brothers. I should have beaten Walys with the broad side of a sword for his manipulations.” Then she laughed. “In a way, he succeeded more than he could have hoped! He wanted me to marry a Southron lord, and I did end up with the grandest one of all.”

“But what of the Princess Elia? Does he now have two wives?” Catelyn asked, a hint of disapproval on her face. “The Faith disallows multiple wives.”

“No, he had the match annulled. They came to an agreement that not everyone is pleased by, but in truth, she was never happy in King’s Landing.” Lyanna took another sip of the wine, when Martyn Cassel came in. “Your Grace, my ladies, the prince and the lords need to speak with you most urgently.”

Alarmed, Lyanna was quick out of her chair and back to Rhaegar. He was sitting in a chair perfectly still. “Lord Varys was able to send a raven out of the capitol. Lannister forces have been spotted one hundred and fifty leagues from King’s Landing.”

Lyanna looked at him, confused. “I thought Lord Tywin chose to stay out of the conflict. Do you think he is going to aid the king?”

“Yes, he was remaining neutral,” Jon Arryn answered. “But I would doubt he is approaching on Aerys’ behalf. He was most grievously insulted when there was no betrothal between Cersei and the prince.”

Lyanna looked back at her husband. She knew of his worry for Elia and the children, not to mention his mother and brother. As if knowing her thoughts, he added, “Mother was allowed to return to Dragonstone with my brother. They, at least, are safe.”

Ned nodded as he stood, then dropped to his knee. “My lord, as we are now kin, I pledge myself to you and will follow wherever you lead.” Rhaegar returned his gaze, a stern look on his face that she knew belied the gratitude she was sure he was feeling. 

Next was Lord Arryn. “I, too, pledge myself to you and your cause. I never called my banners over the abduction of Lady Lyanna, but over the senseless execution of Rickard and Brandon Stark. The forces of the Vale are yours to command.”

Finally, Hoster Tully spoke up. “I knew of the true purpose of the Tourney at Harrenhal last year. I was ready then to pledge myself to you. I do so now.”

“My lords, I thank you for your fealty. I wish I had earned it the way I had intended to, but the gods seemed to force me through a fire to get it. But it is a fire with which I intend to light a forge that will heal our land and end the tyranny that my father has ruled,” he declared, every inch a prince he was. “Tomorrow, we shall ride to King’s Landing, as hard and fast as we can, unite what forces we can and end the reign of Aerys II.”

When they had all departed, and Rhaegar and she were alone, he said to her, “I wish no argument in this. I want you to stay back from the capitol. I know I cannot keep you apart from me, in the Riverlands or the North, both of which would be best. But until I deem it safe, you will not enter King’s Landing. It is a small force that will leave in the morning. The bulk of the troops will continue on as quickly as is possible. You will stay with them.” Naturally, she was about to interrupt him, but he hushed her. “I mistrust Tywin Lannister. He is a cunning man who I am sure has had eyes on everything from the beginning. My paramount concern is for you and the babe. Arthur and Oswell will remain with you as protectors of your person, Gerold, as Lord Commander, and Barristan will come with me. Only when you receive my raven can you follow.” Then, to probably sweeten the deal, he said, “I will have you acknowledged as commander in my stead, with authority to direct resources and troops after consultation.”

She nodded her head, understanding. “What I was going to say, my lord husband, is that I can help with the army you will leave behind. I need not even be given authority. I can play at acting like my sex when it is proper.” They had moved to the bed and snuggled under the covers. Then she was quiet, deep in thought. “I have also been remiss in telling you this, but you were correct with what you said to Elia about her children. I was shocked that an idea such as that was put forward in the first place.”

“I was shocked Oberyn did not hunt me down when we were in Dorne over that,” he said, kissing her temple gently. “But Doran is slow to anger, maybe even too slow. He can be placated by the right words and promises, and he desires his sister’s safety above everything. Oberyn, too, when he hears reason. With letting Elia return to Sunspear with the children, I am giving him that and with the fact he is still supporting me, I can ease his mind that a Martell will sit on the Iron Throne one day. So long as you have no objection.”

“I have never expected my children to sit on the throne,” Lyanna admitted. “I have little desire to sit on one myself. My greatest concern is the same as your--what lies beyond the Wall. There must be more to it than keeping Wildings out of the Seven Kingdoms.”

He adjusted his head to look into her eyes. “And we shall discover that, once my father’s reign is ended and peace returns. Then, we will face our future.”  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Lyanna saw Rhaegar’s contingent off at first light. Along with he, her brother, Lords Arryn and Tully, soldiers from Houses Reed, Umber, Karstark, and Bolton from the North, Royce from the Vale and Blackwood and Whent from the Riverlands accompanied him south. She was left behind with Arthur and Oswell, of course, but Lord Mormont, Lord Mallister and Lady Waynwood remained behind to lead their respective forces. 

It took them near two weeks to make it to King’s Landing, and Rhaegar decided it was best to pass the time getting to know his goodbrother better.

Lyanna had spoken much about her brothers and while she was effusive about Benjen or exasperated by Brandon, when she spoke of Ned, it was in only the most admiring of terms. He was the one who she had always felt was suited to rule a keep. Justice and honor were paramount to him, something he learned firsthand from one of their discussions.

“Your HIghness, I have something I wish to admit to you,” Ned began one evening as they sat around the fire. The younger man shifted his position a number of times, seemingly uncomfortable.

“Speak, my lord, without fear of angering me,” Rhaegar prompted, trying to ease the man’s nerves.

“I never truly believed you to be the type of man who would abduct a maiden and force yourself upon her,” he admitted. “And as much as I love my sister, when Robert demanded our banners be called, I argued that it would be best to wait until I heard word from my brother.”

Rhaegar knew this. He knew the seeds of this rebellion against his father were sowed in the deaths of the Lord of Winterfell and his heir. He was well aware of Brandon Stark’s brashness in seeking him out in the Red Keep, because when he was force to break the news to Lyanna, she wept about their common temperament and where it had led for her eldest brother.

As if to back him up, Lord Arryn put in with his view of the situation. “And I only called when your father demanded I bring Ned and Robert to the capitol for the King’s justice. They were my wards and I would not deliver them to their deaths at the hands of a madman.”

“And right you were, Lord Arryn,” he addressed the older man. “I grieve for your losses, Lord Stark, and I thank you for your benevolent beliefs about me. I swear to you, I love your sister and will never see harm come to her if I can help it.” He reached out his arm, waiting for a similar gesture from Ned Stark. When it came, he sealed their alliance, their blood link, with the words, “You are my brothers, you and young Benjen, from now until the end of my days.” 

As they drew closer to the city, the more Rhaegar could tell something was very wrong. Many of the villages they rode past were devastated, with fields burned, homes wrecked and bodies littering the ground. Rhaegar did as much as he was able to for the smallfolk, but along the route, when they noticed suspicious, fearful and angry faces of the people they encountered, Ned suggested to him to look as inconspicuous as was possible for a Targaryen. 

He also recommended that a portion of their host break off and make for the other entrance as they neared the city gates. Tully was sent to the Old Gate, Arryn and Royce the Lion’s Gate, Whent and Umber the Gate of the Gods, Karstark the Iron Gate and Bolton and Umber the King’s Gate. 

That left only one entrance to the city and soon, he, Stark and Lord Reed could see the Dragon Gate entrance to the city. Beyond the wall, however, was only a preview of the horror that looked to lay ahead. Smoke rose from vast sections of the city, including the near the Great Sept of Baelor and the Red Keep.

At last, they arrived and were met with troops carrying the flag of House Baratheon. The men saw them approach. “Halt,” they ordered.

“I am Prince Rhaegar of House Targaryen, and I order you to let me pass,” he commanded.

“We have been given orders by our lord, Robert Baratheon, to allow no one into the city,” the commander replied. 

He looked to Ned, who told the man, “I am Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell. I was raised in the Eyrie alongside your lord, we are brothers. Allow me to pass, I must see him.”

“As I said, the order was for nobody,” the man growled back.

“I will see to them,” a gravelly voice spoke up. “I am kin to the prince, and this man is more of a brother to your lord than I, his blood.” Stannis Baratheon stepped forward, gruff as always.

Rhaegar jumped down from the horse to approach his cousin with Ned following. “Stannis, what is happening? I need to see go Elia and the children, and to my father!”

“Come with me,” the other man said, his tone gentler than before. Rhaegar and Ned followed him to a tent. When they arrived inside, the three sat around a table with a map and figures laid out on it. After a minute, Stannis looked at him. “I should be asking you the same questions. What has happened? What madness have you wrought?”

“Madness? I came here to stop any more,” he began, trying to explain himself. “I wished to meet Robert, Lord Stark and Lord Arryn, as well as other leaders of the rebellion, to tell them of grave misunderstandings. Your brother refused to see me.”

“And the Lady Lyanna? She has been returned to my brother, her betrothed?” Now he looked to Ned.

Rhaegar took a breath. “The Princess Lyanna has been returned from Dorne, though against my wishes.” He sat back, thinking of how to continue. “It was a betrothal she never wanted. And Elia and I, well, we both knew it was an ill-suited match. I asked for, and received, an annulment, which was granted, and was then married to Lyanna.”

Now Stannis turned to Ned. “Is this true? She went willingly?”

Ned nodded. “We were wrong, there never was an abduction. Rhaegar called for a parley near the Trident, but Robert did not show. But both my sister and her husband, as well as members of the Kingsguard and even Lady Olenna Tyrell confirmed the story. We also have the assurances of the High Septon regarding the annulment and remarriage.”

Stannis gave them both a joyless smile. “I knew your sister was smarter than she appeared. Robert will make not make a good husband to any woman,” Then he stood, turning his back to them as he continued. “But Seven Hells, Rhaegar, could you not have informed her brother, her father, of all of this?”

“Messages were sent,” he answered. “For reasons unknown, they never reached their recipients. Or, if they did, the were misinterpreted.”

“‘Misinterpreted’? Half the country’s burning over an unwanted engagement!”

“What is happening in the capitol?” Ned asked, trying to change the subject. “Robert attacked our forces, his allies, before heading south. We have come to try and reason with him, as he would not hear us further north.”

“I am not entirely sure what is happening in the city,” Stannis admitted. “I received a series of messages from Tywin Lannister. He told me I must come to the aid of my brother here, as he was determined to avenge the death of his ‘brother’s family ‘from the madness of Old Scab’. We were here two days before the Lannister forces arrived from the Goldroad and then another several days until Robert’s banners were seen. Tywin and Robert entered King’s Landing the day before yesterday.” His stony expression gave way to one of...pain was the only word Rhaegar could find to describe it. “I’m sorry, but I could not stop whatever madness has led to King’s Landing being sacked.”


	6. Circling of Lions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ned is allowed to enter King's Landing, only to find the chaos the Lannisters have wrought on the city, and how his friend has now allied himself with Tywin Lannister. New lines of divisions could keep the Seven Kingdoms at odds with each other. Meanwhile, terrible news must be delivered to the prince, but he already knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to send out a huge thank you to EndDragon for all his help in reading, suggesting and encouraging in this chapter, and those to come here and in "Of Kings and Bastards". And I highly recommend his works in "A Series of Broken Promises". A fabulous alternate history to the one we all love. 
> 
> I also want to let my faithful readers know, I have some form of a schedule at work. The plan, for the next few weeks, is to update this story on Saturdays. I struggled through a bout of writer's block here, but I think I have moved past it, at least for the time being. Fingers crossed I can stay the course.
> 
> Again, I thank you all for your comments and encouragement. Seriously, I would not continue writing if it were not for any of you!

Howland and Ned had to physically restrain Rhaegar from rushing out the tent and to the city’s entrance when Stannis finished his sentence. He was overtaken by a crazed, grief-stricken look that made Lord Stark fear for his goodbrother. “Your Grace,” Ned shouted almost directly in his ear, “your grace, if what Lord Stannis says is true, it will be too dangerous for you to enter!”

“Elia and the children,” he cried. “I promised them safe passage out of the city. I was hoping Prince Lewyn could ensure she was gotten out of the city safely and back to Dorne.” He looked to his kin. “Do you know…?”

“Rhaegar, it is still too unsafe for you. Robert attacked his own allies rather than hear you out. Do you think he will be any more open to talking if you rush the Red Keep?” Ned was getting desperate to make the man see reason. “I made a vow to Lyanna before we left that I would ensure your safety. Would you make me an oathbreaker, should some harm come to you before she arrives?”

That, at last, seemed to calm him. But he still looked at Stannis. “Do you know the state of the city? I can see fires…”

Stannis merely shook his head, as Ned spoke again. “I will go in and report back to you, Your Grace,” he said. “He would be more likely to hear me out than you. If I deem it safe, I will have Cassel come and see to you under his, Gerold and Barristan’s protection.”

“And I will ride with you,” the younger Baratheon brother said. “I get a feeling the Lord of the Stormlands has not been entirely forthcoming with the true order of events.”

They all waited for the prince to acknowledge his plan. For a few moments, Ned feared he would not be amenable to it and again try to do something that could get himself killed. But sanity reigned over him and he relaxed in their grip, the fight leaving him. 

Without another thought, he waved Martyn Cassel towards the horses and the three mounted them, heading for the gates. No one stopped them as they passed under the threshold.

What Ned saw as they raced for the Red Keep turned his stomach. Every street they crossed or followed had bodies laid out, in some places three wide. Women wept alongside many of them, as Silent Sisters tried to tend to the injured and prepare the dead. On and on it went, even up to the gates of the keep.

Lannister soldiers stood guard, crossing spears to prevent their entrance. “Who goes there?” one asked.

“Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell, along with Lord Stannis Baratheon, brother of Lord Robert,” Ned told him.

“Is my brother in there?” he asked. “I demand to see him.”

When none made a motion to move, Ned unsheathed Ice. “We will pass and speak with Lord Robert.” His tone brooked no argument.

With great reluctance, the guards moved and the three passed across the bridge. As they dismounted, Ned felt an eerie quiet around him, so different from the chaos that they saw in the city.

“The Throne Room is this way,” Stannis said, pointing in a particular direction. The three followed the corridor until they came to the great oak and brass doors. Standing guard outside was, once again, the gold and crimson men of House Lannister.

“Let me through,” Ned demanded, his tone calm but deadly. No one made a motion to move. “I demand to be let through!”

“Allow Lord Stark inside,” came a new voice. Ned turned and saw the green eyes of Tywin Lannister fall upon him. “Lord Stark and Lord Baratheon are brothers to his grace by oath or blood. He wishes to see them as well.”

Had Tywin Lannister just called Robert ‘his grace’? But before he could query the man, the doors opened and Ned, Stannis, Tywin and Cassel entered.

The room, he noticed, as the long walk to the Iron Throne was made, was filled with troops. Many wore Lannister colors, but others were dressed in the yellow and black of House Baratheon. Jugs of ale and half-eaten food were strewn across the floor. But up on the dais where the throne sat was an even more shocking sight.

Sitting on the throne was Robert Baratheon.

“Robert, what in Seven Hells are you doing?” Stannis shouted before they reached the foot of the stairs, where it looked like more men were laying down, covered in cloaks emblazoned with lions. 

But Robert was already half-drunk, by Ned’s reckoning. “Brothers, brothers, come, share in my great victory!” he yelled boisterously.

“What is the meaning of this? What has happened here?” Ned asked, bewildered by all he was seeing, Robert most especially.

“We have succeeded, that is what happened,” Robert said. “The Mad King is dead, killed by his own Kingsguard. It happened, apparently, before we even reached the Red Keep. The Golden Lion of Casterly Rock slew the withered old dragon.”

Was Robert saying Jaime Lannister had killed Aerys? “The king is dead?” He was still too baffled to understand everything that had happened. It was little help that Robert was already becoming too inebriated to make sense.

“Yes, my son saved the city. When our forces stormed the gates, Aerys ordered his pyromancers to light caches of wildfire that had been placed under the streets of the city,” Tywin supplied clinically.

“And the little dragons, oh ho!” Robert was chortling now, for some reason.

A pit formed in Ned’s stomach as his eyes fell to the two bodies before them on the floor. “Rhaenys and Aegon? What happened to them?”

The smile on Robert’s face was matched only by the equally gruesome one on Tywin’s, “Come, my brother. Come and see what happens when a dragon is slaughtered.”

Robert stood and swayed a bit before waddling down the steps. He was on the first step up from were the capes of Lannister red were, a lion upright and roaring. It was only then that Ned noticed parts of each of the lions had splotches of blood red messing the otherwise pristine condition of the cloaks. With glee, Robert flung back the cloaks to reveal a horror.

The body of a little girl was hard to make out with all the stab wounds oozing blood from them. Her hair was matted with dried blood as well, making the image more of a horror. Next to the dead girl was barely even child-shaped. The head caved in, an arm was crushed and that was all, quite frankly, that Ned could even make out. “What have you done?” 

“What no lord of Westeros was ever able to do in three hundred years--ended the reign of the dragons.” From behind Ned, Tywin answered.

“They were children!” Now Stannis, who Ned had never known to emote anything, took in the sight. “How can you justify killing children!?”

“They are dragonspawn,” Robert answered defiantly, “whose father kidnapped and raped an innocent maid. Let’s see how Rhaegar Targaryen feels when he knows the same has been done to his wife.”

Ned turned his head to Robert, at last able to pull his attention off the two small bodies. “The Princess Elia?” When his friend said nothing, he looked to Tywin Lannister.

“We are at war. I did all I could to curtail the excesses of my force’s men. Unfortunately, there were casualties,” the Warden of the West replied nonchalantly. “We sadly discovered as we did a search of the keep that Elia Martell was...attacked, and I set out to find the perpetrator.”

“You lie with dragons, you will get burned,” Robert commented, stone cold sober now. “Come, Ned, we must set out to hunt the Last Dragon down and end this accursed dynasty.” 

He went to grab Ned by the arm, but Lord Stark wrenched it from his grasp. “And my sister? Would you sentence her to the same fate as has befallen the princess and her children? Would you sentence her babe?”

Now Robert’s anger was inflamed. “How can you say such things when you know that is what he did to Lyanna! He took my beloved, she who was to be my wife! Took her innocence!”

“There was NO TAKING!” At the sound of his yell, Robert, Tywin and Stannis all jumped back a step. “If you had come to talk with your kin when Olenna came to gather us, you would have known she wasn’t taken. I am sorry for you, Robert, but now I see the grievous mistake I made in suggesting the betrothal. She was not captured. No one can cage a she-wolf, not even a dragon.” He was so furious, he was huffing out one breath after the other. “She met Rhaegar at Harrenhal. The reason she was crowned the queen of love and beauty was because he knew her to be the Knight of the Laughing Tree. He was impressed with her bravery, her honor to defend the weak against cruel bullies.”

“He told us all, they told us all! They are married, in the Faith of the Seven and the eyes of the Old Gods. She is with child. So I ask you, brother, would you seal this fate for a woman you claim to love?”

Robert’s eyes grew wide as an owl’s. All his bluster fell away, leaving him shaking. “I was told he forced himself on her, that she fainted at the taking.”

“Who told you that?” Stannis asked, approaching his brother.

But then, as it seemed the impact of everything was hitting him, Tywin came to his side. “If this is true, then where is Rhaegar? Where is his new wife?” He leveled a glare at Ned. “You raised your banners when the Mad King murdered Lord Rickard and his heir, then called for your heads. I have known the Targaryens, they can be cunning. How do we know this is not just some elaborate trap set up by Rhaegar to ensnare all the rebel forces?”

“If you do not trust Lord Stark’s words, Lannister, then listen to me, for surely I am not seen as some naive fool,” Jon Arryn called from the doors of the throne room. As he closed the space between himself and the rest of them, Yohn Royce at his side, he continued. “I was there to hear him tell the same story I am sure Ned has relayed. And I have seen her grace with my own eyes. She is hale and hearty as any Northern woman ought to be.”

“Rhaegar is at the Dragon Gate with many of my forces. I told him once I viewed the situation, I would send for him,” Ned said. “Robert, he must know. You must answer for your crimes, for the murder of these children, for allowing the city to be sacked.”

“I did nothing wrong,” he said. “I was exacting justice as I knew of the situation. I will not beg forgiveness of the dragon.” 

The next thing Ned saw was the gathered Lannister and Baratheon soldiers turn on them, spears and swords at the ready. “You stand against his grace?” Lord Tywin asked. His green eyes gleamed with malice, staring at Ned, Jon and Stannis.

“How is the king?” Jon asked. “I have been informed that Aerys is dead. If that is true, Rhaegar succeeds him. By what right does Robert Baratheon take the Iron Throne?”

“By right of conquest,” Tywin replied. “He is also the grandson of a Targaryen, for the bloodline’s sake, as well. It would naturally fall to him with the capture of the city.”

“It would hold no weight with the Prince alive. Any Maester will tell you the same,” Ned argued.

“Well, Grand Maester Pycelle sees it differently. He argues that, as Robert has captured the capital, the throne would be his by right. But rest assured, he has written to the Citadel for clarification,” Tywin said. 

“Pycelle?” Stannis asked. Before he could be given an answer, he laughed heartily. “Where is he from, Sarsfield, Lannister? You have a Westerlander verifying the claims put forth by his liege lord.”

“It is not his claim,” Robert thundered his thumb in the direction of Tywin. “He merely came to my aid when I was afraid what happened to you, Ned, when you were going to meet that pitiful dragon. I am the one who put the request to the Grand Maester.”

“At his behest, no doubt,” Ned muttered. He felt as though he had stepped into an alternate universe, the things he was hearing from Robert.

Jon was trying to cool the tempers in the room. “Lord Tywin, call off your men. We know we are grossly outnumbered. Neither Ned nor any other of our men will threaten to attack you with such odds.” Thank the gods, but Lannister signaled for his men to stand down. “What of Queen Rhaella and Prince Viserys? Where are they?” Lord Arryn asked.

“There is word that a fleet was leaving Blackwater Bay bearing the Targaryen sigil,” Stannis reported. “Queen Rhaella and Prince Viserys may have been taken to safety at Dragonstone.”

“You will sail there, brother, and bring them to me. I will see all the remaining Targaryens in the Black Cells,” Robert ordered.

“I will do no such thing,” Stannis retorted. When his elder brother began to argue, Stannis spoke over him. “I cannot pledge my service to a man who would kill innocent children, or accept the rape and murder of a woman, especially when this ‘rebellion’ began over such beliefs.”

“Then you, Ned. You will bring me the queen and her brat, and her rapist of a son,” Robert all but ordered.

Ned shook his head. “No, I will not. If I did, I would be consigning my sister to the same fate as Elia Martell. The sister I love, the sister you claimed to love.” He looked at the man he had called brother once, the one he would have been a brother to, had Lyanna married Robert. “She was right, in the end. Lyanna was right about you, that you did not love her. I never thought the answer would be shown to me in such a way, but now, I know the truth.”

“So you will not kneel?” Robert asked, his voice low, a sign of the fury threatening to burst.

“‘Twas the dragons we in the North bowed to. And it is to the dragon I am united by marriage with,” he said, turning his back.

He saw Jon looking at him. Their foster father’s lips were a thin line, an acknowledgment of an agreement. “You will allow us safe passage out of King’s Landing, and take no action against the Targaryen fleet of Dragonstone.”

“And if I don’t?” the Storm Lord snarled.

“Then in a few weeks, the remainder of our host will be here. We will surround the city, and we will seek justice for the innocent you killed here,” Ned explained as he got right in Robert’s face. “On my honor as a Stark of Winterfell, I make this solemn oath.” And he knew Robert was very aware of how seriously he took oaths.

That confrontation had Jon Arryn pulling Ned by the arm and to the front of their group, while Stannis backed away from Robert and Tywin. “You are turning your back on your brother?” he questioned in a low, deadly voice. “We are blood!”

“You never gave two shits about me. Why should I support you?” Stannis asked.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Somehow, they made it out of the Red Keep and the city. When they got back outside the walls by the Dragon’s Gate, Jon turned to the others. “I’ll have ravens sent to our people stationed around the city, have them leave their forces there while we meet.” Then he looked conflicted as if his own son had stabbed him through the gut. “There’s to be no short or easy solution to this.”

“Baratheon and Lannister murdered children, but also murdered a princess of Dorne. I suspect even Doran Martell will have something to say about that,” Ned spoke up. He leaned his head back, his eyes closed while aimed skyward. “The prince promised Elia she and the children would be given safe passage. He even had that message sent to Sunspear as well. Now…”

“We can retake the city. The bulk of your forces can’t be far away,” Stannis said, trying to find something tenable for the prince to hold on to when they told him what happened. “We can send ships to Dragonstone, ensure the Queen and young prince are safe as well.”

It was something, but Ned did not relish bringing it to his goodbrother. How do you tell a man a woman he at least cared for and the children she gave him were so brutally murdered?

Those question bounced around Ned’s mind as they approached the prince’s tent. Stepping in, Rhaegar smiled at him, probably in anticipation of the news he brought in return. Sadly. Ned could not mask the grief his face was showing.

Rhaegar knew something was wrong from that minute on. “Tell me,” he commanded in a monotone voice.

They took two full hours to explain all that happened in King’s Landing and the Throne Room. Through it all, his goodbrother’s expression remained utterly blank. 

“Were the childrens’ bodies shrouded in Lannister cloaks?” Rhaegar asked numbly at the end.

Ned looked at Jon, then back to Rhaegar. “Yes. Crimson with lions,” he answered. “At least the color hid most of the…” He couldn’t bring himself to finish his sentence. 

Now the prince, no, he was king, said, “I saw this. I saw this fate for...for them,” Rhaegar whispered with nary an ounce of control taking hold of him. “I saw the shrouds, the lions,” he looked to Ned, who felt he was being tortured by the man’s suffering, “and saw the stag imagining his arrogant triumph. Even if I was not there, I saw it all.”

“We can lay siege to King’s Landing, my king,” Jon Arryn suggested. “When our host arrives, we will outnumber them three to one.”

“And I can see a blockade is enforced in the Blackwater,” Stannis added. “I have ships and men loyal to me who are able fighters at sea.”

Rhaegar tried to smile but there was no joy present. “I am not the king,” he simply said. “And I never shall be.” He sagged in his chair, expounding, “This victory will bring neither Robert nor Tywin any joy. There are greater threats out there in the world. He will not know that while laying in the lion’s den,” he said, all energy sapped from him. 

“If your father is indeed dead, then you are, in fact, Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms,” Jon said. “Robert’s claim will never hold up with the crown prince still alive, and his heir to be birthed soon. He knows that. If I can talk with him, convince him to drop this folly--”

“But I shall never be crowned, Lord Arryn. That is not my fate.” Rhaegar took a breath, rubbing his hands over his face. “Are there forces to be spared to be sent to see to my mother and Viserys?”

“I can lead an expedition, your grace,” Stannis said. “Better still, I have some men who I trust and we can sail tomorrow.” 

“You truly would stand against your own brother for me?” Ned thought he sounded as though he did not believe the words out of Stannis’ mouth.

“I think you know, Rhaegar, there has been little love between Robert and myself for many years. We were too different growing up and his years in the Vale only drove us further apart,” Stannis replied. “And I cannot condone what he and Lannister did. I fear Robert has fallen under Tywin’s influence and if what we saw was any indication, the hold will not be broken easily.”

“We should begin to plan a counter-attack,” Ned proposed. “We need to send ravens to the remaining host, have them get into position when they arrive--”

“No,” came the firm statement from Rhaegar. “There will be no battle to retake the city.”

“But--” Now Jon tried to speak up.

“King’s Landing has already been sacked. I will not have its people suffer anymore, spill another drop of blood, so that I may sit on that hideous chair,” Rhaegar continued. Then he looked to Jon and Stannis. “Leave. I wish to speak to Lord Stark alone.”

Knowing a dismissal, both men exited the tent, with Barristan closing the flap once they were gone. When he turned, Ned saw a look in his goodbrother’s eyes he had not seen since they met up at the Forks. “I do not think to talk with Robert will do any good, but I will allow Jon to try. There’s a slight chance Robert may listen. But I am serious-no fighting. Besides,” he added as he stood. “I know I shall never be crowned.”

He could tell Rhaegar truly believed that last sentence. With a slight tremble in his voice, he asked, “How do you know that?”

“All my life, I have been plagued with dreams,” he explained. “People say I have a melancholia about me, but it’s because the dreams have shown me my life’s path.” At the look Ned must have been projecting, he nodded. “The last time I was back here, I had a series of dreams one night. In one of them, I saw the children, their shrouds. Call it what you will, a madness, a magic, but I saw it.”

Ned could hardly believe him, but something within could not deny his words. “What else have you seen?”

“I have seen my son in a great battle and I have seen my funeral, with that same man proclaiming I was the ‘king uncrowned’. I know my place will never be on the Iron Throne, but I also know there is a greater battle we must prepare for. If I must sacrifice my birthright to ensure there is a future for my people, then there is no choice, brother.”

“And what of Lyanna? Do you think she will have the same opinion?” 

“Can you see the She-Wolf on a throne?” he asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice. “She did not expect even her children to sit on the throne. I know they will, but it was never Lyanna’s goal, for her or our children.”

Eddard Stark had to admit, he had a point. Lyanna was hardly ladylike when they were children. In fact, if she was indeed the Knight of the Laughing Tree, age had not calmed her rebelliousness. “We should not make any final decisions yet until the armies of the North, Vale and Riverlands arrive. But we should make demands.” Rhaegar sat back in his chair, awaiting Ned’s proposals. “The...bodies. They should be given proper funeral rights. And the bones sent to Dorne. It will do little to appease them, but it is only right.”

“I can almost hear her brother Oberyn now. He will be out for the blood of the perpetrators of this crime,” Rhaegar said.

“He should have justice,” Ned told him. “If there is any honor remaining in either Robert or Tywin Lannister, that man or those men should find themselves on the executioner’s block.” He paused after that, gathering his thoughts. “We need to retrieve Rhaella and Viserys from Dragonstone. I doubt it will remain safe, as Robert is still calling for Targaryen blood.”

“It may be best to send them to Essos for their protection. Until my son is born, Viserys is still my heir, though I worry about him. He was too much under our father’s influence, I fear.” It was getting late and the prince looked bone tired. “Can we continue this discussion in the morning? I…”

Ned understood. “Rest easy, my king. We will come up with something.” With a nod of his head, he was about to leave the tent, when he said one last thing. “And my deepest condolences for your losses. I can’t even imagine dealing with such a thing.”

Rhaegar was trying and failing to express his appreciation with words, but none came. He merely nodded and turned away.

Ned left him, not knowing what to do next.


	7. The Damnation of the Gods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhaegar and Lyanna's reunion comes under the tragic news of the Sack. Arthur and Oswell are given a full debriefing by Gerold and Barristan while Lyanna does her best to comfort her husband and the the Kingsguard.

They were at the last hill before King’s Landing, and it was all Arthur could do to stop Lyanna from racing to get to Rhaegar. It had taken a bit longer than expected to get to the capitol, and the princess had been rapidly losing patience with the journey. He and Oswell weren’t helping matters, teasing her about when they arrived, how she would have to change, conform herself more to the image the court expected out of her than the wild she-wolf she was. One time, when Oswell was sparring with her and his swordplay was matched only by his japes, Lyanna had taken advantage of one comment that he distracted himself with, and knocked his fellow kingsguard on his ass.

“You should worry more about your parries, and less about thrusts,” Arthur had advised him, a rare moment he delighted in the scene before him of the princess working off her anxiety for her husband.

And now, with the road ahead leading directly to the Dragon’s Gate, the young woman would probably not be stopped. They could see the Sept of Baelor and the Red Keep, but they also saw a number of tents outside the city walls. Arthur caught sight of a few and something about the ones he was seeing alerted him that there was something amiss. 

“Your Grace, I know you want to get back to Rhaegar, but I fear that there is something wrong,” he told her. “Not with the prince, mind,” he was pointing to a Targaryen banner, clearly visible at the center of the small canvas city that had popped up, “but something is not right.”

Lyanna noticed the banners flying too and saw the Stark direwolf close to the three-headed dragon. Her eyes held a confused look. “Why would they be outside the city?” she asked.

“That’s what I’m wondering as well,” Oswell added. 

“Princess, please, let us ride up in front of you when we reach the camp,” Arthur implored. “Your safety is our prime concern. You and your child.” He looked at her with a solemn expression, trying to convince her of his suggestion with a look.

For once, Lyanna Stark yielded. “Of course, Ser Arthur. Whatever you say.”

Arthur looked back to Lord Jorah Mormont, who had taken it upon himself as a Northerner to look after the princess directly. He dined with her and the kingsguard each night and told fanciful stories about Bear Island and his family there. “Lord Mormont, Ser Oswell and I will ride directly with the princess to Prince Rhaegar. I trust you can see to the remains of our host?” The younger man nodded, his face set and serious. Then Arthur looked to Oswell. “Let’s go,” he said, each riding several feet in front of Lyanna.

They were at the encampment in no time. Dismounting from their horses, they saw Ser Barristan Selmy standing not far away. “I thought I recognized the Star of the Morning and a bat leading a wolf to us.”

Lyanna rushed to him, not letting him get an answer from his brothers. “Rhaegar? Ned?”

Barristan gave her a small smile. “Both are here and unharmed. You have nothing to fear in that.”

“But something is wrong?” Oswell asked.

Ser Barristan’s eyes flickered up to meet Arthur’s. “I think it best we go directly to his grace,” he said calmly.

Lyanna needed no other words. She rushed through the maze of tents and men, and when she saw Rhaegar, she threw herself into his arms. It was moments later that Arthur could see both were crying, but it was not in relief. “What happened?” he asked.

“Lord Commander Hightower wishes to see the two of you and tell you exactly what happened,” was the reply. It did nothing to set Arthur at ease.

The tent of the Lord Commander was a few feet away from that of the crown prince, and Gerold was inside, along with soldiers from Houses Stark, Umber, Royce, Blackwood and Whent. He heard some of the conversations as he approached. “Now that we have our full force here, taking the capital will be easy,” Lord Yohn Royce said, his voice with an edge to it. 

“Even with the larger forces, I still do not see the King wanting to take the city, Royce,” Gerold argued. “King’s Landing has suffered enough from Lannister and Baratheon. His Grace will not want the people to suffer more.”

“The King?” Oswell asked, standing next to Arthur. “Has something happened to Rhaegar?”

“Apologies, my lords, but we just arrived with her grace, the princess,” Arthur explained. “We have little knowledge of what has happened.”

“My Lords, of you could leave us. I need to bring my men up to date,” Gerold said, his voice brooking no argument. The lords shuffled out, leaving just the four kingsguards. When the flap was closed, Gerold sat down. “Arthur, Oswell, it’s a fucking mess here,” he said.

For Gerold to use such language was unusual. He was every inch the lord, even if he was still just a soldier. “What happened, Gerold? Is Aerys dead?”

“Yes,” he replied, “killed by Ser Jaime Lannister.”

“What?” Arthur didn’t believe it. He could not picture Jaime breaking his vows, especially that one. 

Gerold held up his hand. “Even if it is breaking his paramount vow, there is a reason for it. But that is not all of it, unfortunately.” He poured him a glass of wine, then one for each of his men. “Lannister forces came up the Goldroad, and Aerys was convinced Tywin was there to save him from the onslaught of the Stormlanders. But, it seems that he made a deal with Robert Baratheon and when the gates were opened, instead of coming to the king’s aid, he let his men sack the city.” Arthur was glad when he found a chair right under him because he sagged in it immediately. It was like a weight landed on him, pinning him down. “And it only gets worse,” Gerold added.

“How could it get worse?” Arthur found himself asking. “What else has happened?”

“You ever hear of Gregor Clegane?” Barristan asked. “They call him The Mountain.” Arthur searched his mind but was drawing a blank. “He is just about the size of one and a vicious bastard. The Mountain led troops to the Red Keep.” He stopped himself there suddenly, as if unable to get the words out.

Gerold continued for him. “Elia Martell and her children have not been allowed to leave King’s Landing by order of Aerys. When the Mountain got there, he....” 

With Gerold struggling, Arthur knew it had to be terrible. “Elia?” he asked, almost afraid of the answer.

“She was raped and murdered, almost split in two during the attack,” Barristan said at last. “Rhaenys, she was stabbed so much…” Selmy couldn’t go on.

“And the little prince, Aegon.” Gerold closed his eyes. “You would not be able to tell it was a living child with what was left.”

There was silence amongst them, four anointed knights, whose deeds in battle were legendary, and all were in tears, mourning for those who were savagely murdered. It took a good two minutes for them to collect themselves enough to continue the discussion.

“How is Rhaegar?” Arthur asked. They were lifelong friends, which afford Arthur the privilege of familiarity with him. He knew it was a stupid question, but it was the only one his brain could process at the moment.

“Lord Stark, he begged the prince to stay outside the city walls, until he could determine if it was safe,” Barristan replied. 

From the corner of his eye, Arthur saw Oswell drink the cup of wine in one gulp and then refill it, taking a healthy dose of that one. “What is the plan then? Are Rhaegar and the Riverlanders, Knights of the Vale and the Northerners going to retake the city?”

Gerold frowned, looking at his cup. “I do not know. Stark, Arryn and Stannis Baratheon have been making plans for when the rest of the army arrived, but Rhaegar,” he forced a breath out of his mouth, “he doesn’t want to try and retake the city. He doesn’t want any more blood spilled to get him the throne.”

That didn’t altogether surprise Arthur. Rhaegar was as fierce a warrior as any man, but he did not like killing. He was a believer that things happened for a reason, we are what we are, where we are, for a greater purpose. 

But at this moment, Ser Arthur Dayne had no idea what any of the purposes of this tragedy was.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Lyanna didn’t think she had any more tears left to shed. Rhaegar had told her all that had happened as if it had happened to another person. She knew she should be comforting him, the brutality of the deaths of his children unbelievable. Instead, he was doing all he could to soothe her. 

“It’s all my fault,” she said, over and over again. “If I hadn’t ridden against the knights, beaten them and angered your father…”

“It was not your fault. Don’t even think that,” he said, holding her close as they lay on the cot. “This rest solely on the heads of Robert and Tywin. I wouldn’t be surprised if Lannister had been plotting all this since Father rejected his proposed betrothal to Cersei. He quit as Hand immediately and went back to Casterly Rock.”

A shuddering chill ran down Lyanna’s spine at the mention of Cersei. It had not been many times she had been in the presence of the lioness, but every time she had, even before Lyanna had been in Rhaegar’s orbit, she felt Cersei’s eyes on her like claws ripping at her flesh. It was said around the Seven Kingdoms that Cersei had been told from a young age that she was going to be married to the crown prince. Yet, it never came to be. 

“That was really the last sane moment my father had. His paranoia played into it, of course, but he probably figured that with Cersei as queen, Tywin would have been king in all but name,” Rhaegar reasoned. “Elia...Elia told me that at our wedding, Cersei wished her a long happy marriage with many children. It was her tone with the sentiment that tipped her hand.”

“You think that was the reason Elia was killed? So Cersei Lannister could step into the breach and take her place as queen?” It was a delusional thought, to be sure. It was not like the realm didn’t know that Rhaegar had run off with another woman, who, if anything happened to Princess Elia, would surely be married to Rhaegar as soon as was decent. 

“This is a woman who tortured her baby brother and has always spoken of Tyrion’s birth and her mother’s death as a ‘murder’. Oberyn Martell told me when he went to see the Lannister babe, expecting a monster, Cersei pinched his cock so hard, she looked to be trying to rip it off,” Rhaegar replied. “There is something to her, a madness almost, that is all too familiar to me.”

They lay in silence together for a few minutes, when Ned appeared at their tent. He flashed her a sad smile, and she rose to greet his open arms. “Big brother,” she said. Then Lyanna looked back to Rhaegar. “I heard. I was told...you were shown…”

“The children, yes,” he nodded to confirm. “I feel I must apologize to you, sister, for you were more right than you knew. Robert...he is not the man I thought him to be, and I am sorry you were ever betrothed to him.”

“Even I did not think him capable of what I have been told of. Whores and drink, I thought, were his worst vices,” she admitted.

“I fear that most of this is Tywin’s doing,” Rhaegar told them. “I know Robert is no great prize, but all that was done? Even he would not think to initiate it.”

Ned looked to Rhaegar, his face marred with the grimmest of features. “Rhaegar, I think you ought know, Martell banners were spotted south of King’s Landing, then heading west. Other houses have seen them too. I would guess they are headed this way.”

Rhaegar breathed in and out. “Doran, if we are lucky, Oberyn if we are not.” He walked past both Lyanna and Ned to the Kingsguard tent. With the constant state of worry Lyanna had been in since she arrived, she was only a few steps behind him. 

When she arrived, she heard Rhaegar say, “I want constant guards around the princess. I will see that there are Targaryen and Stark men there too, but I do not want the princess alone,” he ordered Gerold.

“Rhaegar?” Lyanna wasn’t understanding why he was ordering so many guards around her. 

“Oberyn Martell is as deadly as a poisonous snake. He is said to have studied poisons all over the known world. He very likely believes his sister was cruelly put aside by me. I fear he may come after you, especially with the cruel murder of Elia,” he explained.

“But Doran wrote you, said he may not be happy with the situation, but Elia has...had not contested it,” Lyanna reasoned.

“Doran said that,” her husband grimaced. “That does not mean Oberyn accepts it. He is far too rash and dangerous for you to be left unattended.” Then he looked to Ned. “Have scouts be on the lookout for their banners. I want to know immediately when they have been spotted.”

“Of course,” Ned said. 

“And have some House Stark guards to supplement the Kingsguard,” Rhaegar added.

Ned nodded, adding with a smirk, “I will pick the men personally. I know a few who remember my sister’s tricks of escape.”

She knew she should have thrown Ned a nasty look, but for her husband’s sake, she didn’t argue. “If you must choose, can I make a request? Can it be Jory Cassel? He’s never let me get away with much.”

“I will speak to Jory immediately. He’ll certainly watch you like a hawk. I’ll go to it, my king,” Ned smiled as he left.

Lyanna saw Rhaegar flinch with the last of her brother’s words. He turned to Gerold. “Oswell and Arthur, at all times, your grace,” the lord commander said, to which the men stood at attention and bowed.

Rhaegar merely turned and left the tent. Lyanna wanted to follow him but held back. She had questions anyway, one she did not want him to hear. “Rhaegar also told me...about Ser Jonothor and Prince Lewyn. I am so sorry, losing your brothers.”

“Thank you, your grace,” Barristan spoke up. His grief was palatable, but his sentiment was genuine.

“And Ser Jaime, what of him?” she asked.

“You haven’t told us what you meant by a reason for Jaime to break his vow, Gerold,” Arthur said. “What happened to the king?”

Gerold looked to Lyanna as if she shouldn’t be here, but she stood firm. “Please, Rhaegar has not hidden anything from me. I ask the same of you.” Then she looked back to the two kingsguard she had arrived with. “Besides, you just said I was not to go anywhere without them. As they aren’t moving until you tell us about the king, neither can I.”

Lord Commander Hightower didn’t look happy but didn’t argue with her. Lyanna sat down and was followed by the men, allowing Gerold to begin. “I was, generously, allowed access to the city, and Jaime. They were holding him in his quarters in the White Sword Tower when I spoke to him. Aerys, well, he had a fascination--obsession really--with fire. As such, he had the Alchemist’s Guild work on making batches of wildfire.” 

Dayne and Whent seemed to understand what he meant, but Lyanna asked, “What is wildfire?”

“It’s a mixture of potions that make any normal fire ten times greater,” Ser Oswell answered. “It could level half the city if there was enough of it.”

“And there was, according to Jaime,” Gerold said. “When Aerys realized Tywin had betrayed him, he ordered the pyromancers to light caches of the stuff that was under every major section of the city. Five hundred thousand could have been killed.”

“But Jaime stopped them?” Lyanna questioned.

“He did,” Gerold confirmed. “He killed the chief pyromancer before he could alert his cohorts. Then, he said the king kept ranting ‘kill them all, kill them all’. That was when Ser Jaime stabbed Aerys in the back.”

Lyanna could see the conflict the man faced. Their first duty was to protect the king, keep his secrets, keep his silence and defend his honor. But in killing the king, Ser Jaime Lannister broke every one of those vows. 

Yet, she knew there were other vows, vows that came before any man could be a knight of the Kingsguard. “He saved the city, am I correct in that?” she asked. “What are the vows of a knight?”

Arthur looked like he wanted to smile, to acknowledge the point he was seeing her make. “‘I swear to defend those who cannot defend themselves, to protect all women and children, to obey my captains, my liege lord, and my king, to fight bravely when needed and do such other tasks as are laid upon me, however hard or humble or dangerous they may be,’’ he repeated.

Lyanna smiled. “I would say Jaime did all those things. He defended the people from a madman who was bent on destruction.”

“If only it were so easy,” Gerold said. “You are correct, your grace, but he still swore to protect and defend the king and he did not. He went so far as to kill his king.”

“And it will not be easy to make a full inquiry. Tywin is keeping him guarded at all times, even without the city closed,” Barristan added. 

“Your grace, there is no easy answer for what has transpired. There never will be. These are just the facts we know now,” Gerold said lightly. 

Part of her understood what Lord Commander Hightower meant, but another part of her saw there was no dichotomy in Jaime’s actions. “What will happen, should the full truth be discovered?”

“I do not know that either,” he replied. “It may be in the hands of the gods if he is praised or damned.

She nodded and rose from her seat. Thinking on everything she had learned today, she concluded with, “He is not the only one the gods will judge.”


	8. Whispers and Shouts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyanna's dream turns into a nightmare while she and Rhaegar face possible threat from House Martell

_Lyanna found herself walking along the walls of the Red Keep, looking out into Blackwater Bay. It was a magnificent sight, one she was only able to take her eyes away from when she heard a cooing in her arms. She looked down to see her son squirm in her arms, his grey eyes narrowed and a frown on his face._

_“Too warm for you too, huh little wolf?” she asked her son, who balled his fist as if to respond. “Yes, I agree. What I wouldn’t give to see snow blanketing the ground. Maybe not feet of it, but snow nonetheless. Well, one day, my little prince, I promise you, you will see snow and ice and heart trees. You will see Winterfell, I swear it.”_

_“I do hope he does,” Elia said as she walked over to the two of them. “I sometimes wish I could see a true snowfall. In Dorne, we have so little, even in the height of a winter. I would have liked for my children to have played in it, made balls of it and engaged in battles.” The dark-haired woman smiled sadly._

_“You still can, Princess. We should take a trip North, show our children what a real winter looks like even in the summer,” Lyanna suggested. “I know Rhaegar would like to speak with his Uncle Aemon. And the Wall is truly something to see once in a lifetime. The work that went into it...it is unbelievable.”_

_“Ah, I would if I could,” Elia sighed._

_Lyanna looked at her confused. What would prevent her from taking the trip? Rhaenys and Aegon would love it. She would think that the little princess would enjoy having another boy to boss around, as she already did with her two young brothers. Adding little Robb Stark would have her in all Seven Heavens. Lyanna stole a quick glance at baby Jon until she heard a cry._

_Looking back at Elia, she saw the woman on the ground, bleeding profusely from what seemed to be between her legs. Her elegant gown was shredded, her breasts exposed. The pristine skin was blotched with claw marks, black and blue bruises all over her body. And then, right in front of Lyanna, there was a last, agonizing grunt before her body was split down the middle almost._

_Lyanna screamed, the baby in her arms crying with her. She fell to her knees, trying desperately to help her friend. Then shadows fell over her._

_Now, Lyanna noticed they were all in the Throne Room, along with two tiny enshrouded bodies. An unseen figure lifted the cloaks and a wicked laugh sounded, followed by an enthusiastic clapping. “Good, good! See how the Silver Dragon likes this!” Robert Baratheon chortled. The two bodies were those of Elia’s children._

_“Robert?!” Lyanna screamed, rising to her feet, still holding Jon. “What have you done?” She was horrified beyond measure._

_“I did this for you, my love,” Robert said, a smile on his face. He came closer to her, reaching for her, but she stepped back further, out of his grasp. “Come darling. Let me finish it.”_

_“Finish what?” she asked. Then she felt a solid, soft mass behind her. She looked up and saw a man who was truly more of a giant, moreso than even Wylis. He clasped his massive hands on her forearms, pinning her to him._

_“Come, let us end all this. You are safe from him now. I will protect you, I will see you have no more reminders of the crimes he visited upon you,” Robert repeated._

_Lyanna struggled in the mountain of the man’s clutches, as Robert came closer and reached for Jon. She did all she could to keep her son out of Robert’s reach, but then the babe was out of her arms and in Robert’s._

_Jon was crying, his little body shaking at the Stormlord’s chest. Robert’s voice, just before sounding like a madman’s a minute ago, now grew soft. It calmed her son, but she was still fearful. “Robert, let him go! Give him back to me!” She still could not break free of the man._

_Robert turned his back to Lyanna, whispering to the baby. “Now, now, there is nothing to fear. Soon, you will join your brother and sister, and soon, I will send your father to you. I will spill all the blood of the dragons, end the accursed line.”_

_Lyanna saw Tywin Lannister come to Robert’s side, his green eyes glinting with malice and behind him was his daughter Cersei. “A toast to our new king, Robert of House Baratheon, First of his Name,” Tywin proclaimed. “And to his queen, Cersei of House Lannister. The union of lion to stag.”_

_“May the blood of this child consecrate our union,” Cersei said as Robert produced a knife and repeatedly stabbed Jon. Lyanna tried to scream, but no sound came from her lips as her son’s blood dribbled into the goblet Cersei was holding. Then, with the corpse of the child disposed of, Robert took the goblet from his new wife and drank from it, before handing it back to the Lannister woman, who did the same._

_Now Robert approached her, still in the mountain’s grasp. “And may the blood of this child consecrate our union, Lyanna of House Stark.” The cup was forced to her lips, but she tried not to open them. Another soldier came and forced her to her knees, her head back, and her mouth opened. Her son’s blood was poured in, almost choking her. When they finished, Robert took his own sip. “At last, the union of the wolf and the stag!” he cried with glee._

_Finally, she was free of the two arms that had captured her. She sank to the floor, weary and grief-stricken. Then she felt a body on top of her. There was no fight in her as her legs were wrenched apart and a manhood pounded into her. She could smell Robert, the stench of wine and whores’ perfumes all over him as he continued his assault. She was able to turn her head and saw Cersei Lannister smile triumphantly, until they both heard Robert say, “I love you Lyanna. I will love only you.”_

_Almost unconscious, she saw the two green eyes narrow. Cersei’s victory seemed to crash around her with those words, and in spite of the crimes that had been and were being visited upon Lyanna at this moment, she laughed._

It was the laughter that finally woke Lyanna up with a start. She found herself on the bed in the tent she was sharing with Rhaegar on the outskirts of King’s Landing. She looked around several times, but she did not see her husband. Panic rose in her and she leaped out of the bed, calling for Arthur.

The Sword of the Morning was inside the tent immediately. “Your Grace?” he asked his face with the uncommon show of worry.

“The Prince?” she asked, all calmness fleeing her. “Where is the Prince?”

“Rhaegar?” he asked. “He is in the main tent, meeting with his lords,” the Kingsguard replied.

“And Robert? Where is he!” It wasn’t a question. Lyanna’s mind was still struggling between the true worlds and one of the dream she had just escaped. She took a few deep breaths, trying to still herself. “I’m...I’m sorry. I just...I had a nightmare,” she explained at last.

“His Grace said you had a fitful night’s sleep,” Ser Arthur replied. “He told us not to disturb you, but to stay close. I think he had a notion you’d be upset once you woke.”

“Upset is too mild a word for it,” Lyanna said. She closed her eyes and tried to not see the images from the dream again, but they still haunted her. “I...I have to go see Rhaegar immediately.”

Arthur nodded, but suggested with some delicacy, “Maybe you should dress more, uh.” His finger waggled up and down.

Lyanna looked down at her sleeping shift. She was half a mind to ignore her attire but then thought better. Hurrying inside, she threw on riding leathers and a tunic before emerging again and heading towards her husband’s meeting tent.

She heard Rhaegar talking with Ned inside. “I will not repeat myself,” he stated harsher than usual. “I have already said, I will have no more bloodshed so I can sit upon a throne. And now that all this has happened?” He stopped there before continuing. “Maybe it is fate that all this has happened. Maybe I was never meant to be a king.”

“Then what will you have all of us do?” Lord Stannis Baratheon asked. “Are you saying we bend the knee to a child-murderer and his enabler?” He loudly scoffed at the notion.

“I...I cannot say what you all should do. It is on your conscience what you should do for your people,” Rhaegar replied.

After he said that, Lyanna thought it time for her to make her appearance. Quietly, she stepped inside. All the other lords had their backs to her, but Rhaegar. At the sight of her, he let out a breath. “Lyanna.”

All the other men turned to see her and bowed before her. She ignored them all as she strode to her husband. “What is going on, Rhaegar? What are you talking about?”

Rhaegar looked around the space. “If you will please leave us. There are things I must tell my wife.” All were about to leave, when she next heard, “Lord Stark, stay. As this is about family, I feel it right you should stay.” Ned nodded and took a seat.

Lyanna was led to her own chair, and Rhaegar made sure she sat. Then he began. “I have told this to your brother, Lord Arryn and Lord Baratheon. Stannis,” he clarified. “When I was last in King’s Landing, I had a dream one night and among what I saw in the dream was the...the bodies. As Ned confirmed, they were covered in Lannister cloaks. But I saw other scenes from my life. At least, I believe they were from my life.” Taking a deep breath, he explained. “Then I saw an old woman tell of someone or someones called the children of the forest, and how they create something to defeat their enemies only for it to turn on them. They needed to unite with their enemy in the end to defeat the monster. Next, I saw,” he placed his hand on her belly, “our son engaged in a great battle. And the last thing I saw in that dream…”

He almost seemed like he could not continue, but she knew he must. “My love, what was the last thing you saw?” Lyanna asked near tears.

He gazed into her eyes and she returned it, grey on indigo. “I saw my funeral. I saw our son at my funeral, calling me ‘the king uncrowned’.” He closed his eyes. “From that moment on, I knew I would never be king, never sit on the Iron Throne. There is somewhere else I am needed and it is in the North.”

“North of the Wall?” she asked incredulously. “Rhaegar, you cannot mean to abandon me, give up your birthright.” She winced at her words. She didn’t want to sound as if she was trying to push him in a particular way, but it must have sounded that way.

He smiled at her, small and mournful. “I would never abandon you, my sweet, fierce wolf. But I think fate has set me on this course. I do not believe I will go to the Land of Always Winter, not for many years anyway. But if I am to save my people, I cannot fight an unnecessary, costly battle for a hideous chair in a city where few would believe me of a great threat to come.”

She leaned her forehead against his. Lyanna knew how this pained him. He did want to rule, she knew this. He wanted to be in a position to save the Seven Kingdoms from the threats he had read of, they had studied up on. It only seemed natural that it would be believed that place would be from King’s Landing. But with every day that passed, it felt as though it would never happen, that the city would be forever closed to its crown prince.

She had told him, very recently, in fact, she had little desire to sit on a throne. Lyanna Stark was of the North, the hard, proud people who spoke bluntly and cared little for the ways of the south. It seemed as though she would not have to put up with the an of that if Rhaegar spoke truthfully. At the same time, she felt sorrow and anger on his behalf. His birthright was being stolen from him, by the Lannisters and his own blood.

She began to burn for a confrontation with these thieves, these murderers. But she would have to quell that fire, at least for now. “I shall follow your lead. Where you go, I shall go. You are mine and I am yours, from this day to the end of our days.”

P embraced, but she knew her brother saw her intentions in her eyes. They were of the wolf, watching to strike its prey.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Ned Stark was alarmed by the look he saw on his sister’s face. He knew of her temper. It was not to be trifled with. When it erupted, woe to he who was in her path.

When they were younger, he remembered Brandon playing a prank on her, Benjen and himself. After he did it, Ned himself took off out of the crypts where it was pulled, Benjen sat on the ground crying, but Lyanna...Lyanna nearly broke one of their brother’s ribs, the attack so ferocious. That was what he saw now, that same look he saw on her face before he ran away.

He was about to call her on it when he heard himself being called for. “My Lord.” a guard wearing Stark colors called as he was allowed entry into the Targaryen tent, “an intruder was picked up along the eastern perimeter of the camp. However, when he was questioned, he asked to speak with HIs Grace.” The man cocked his head in the direction of where Rhaegar Targaryen was standing at the table looking at a map.

“Did he say who he was?” Lord Eddard Stark asked, before shooting a quick look at his sister and good-brother.

“No. He merely said, he was a man seeking information,” the guard reported.

Rhaegar looked up at the young lad, then to Ned and back to the guard. “What does this man look like?”

“Swarthy, darkish skin. Hair black as midnight. He appears to be around your ages, my lords, my lady. He speaks with an accent,” the guard described.

“Oberyn Martell?” Ned asked. He was well aware of the reputation of the younger brother of the Prince of Dorne had within the realm. When they had first heard of the Martell banners being seen approaching King’s Landing, Rhaegar had openly questioned why he had not arrived to speak with any of them yet. He was a slippery man, but one who was known to have a quick temper and an enjoyment of confrontation. He was always devotedly loyal to his sister Elia, but there was no word from him on anything that had happened recently.

“Yes,” Rhaegar said. “I had wondered why he hadn’t shown up yet.” He nodded his head and Ned relayed the acceptance to the guard. A few minutes later, the sinister smiling face of Prince Oberyn stood before them.

“My Lord Stark,” he acknowledged smoothly, ignoring Rhaegar and Lyanna when he spoke, “I would like to extend my deepest condolence to you on the death of your father, and, I am sure, share the scorn for the fates of sister Princess Elia, my niece Princess Rhaenys and young Prince Aegon, my nephew and the second in line for the Iron Throne. What happened to them was barbaric, by any standard.” Then he looked to Rhaegar. “I am sure you did all you could to protect them. I wrote to my uncle Prince Lewyn to do all he could for them so it was possible for them to return to Sunspear and safety. Sadly, I heard that the Lannister forces were allowed into the city. They sacked it, burning and pillaging and raping their way up to and in the Red Keep.”

“You knew the Lannisters were at the city gates?” Ned asked.

“I believe it is said, the Master of Whisperers has little birds that informed him of all that happens in the capitol? Well, I too have creatures that slither through the cracks, gathering information for me. Information that said Tywin was moving his forces up the Goldroad. When I informed my brother, he allowed me to take a contingent of some of my finest warriors here. Alas, I was too late to do anything. They had already been given access to the city. I had heard other reports that said Grand Maester Pycelle gave assurance that the Westerlands and their liege lord were on the side of his grace, King Aerys,” Oberyn explained. Then, as if he finally noticed, he said to Lyanna, “My lady, I hear that congratulations are in order. I hear my goodbrother--” He chuckled as if hearing a jape “-- my former goodbrother, will be a father again. Rather convenient that his first two children are dead.”

Before the final word was out of his mouth, Ser Barristan’s arm was around the prince’s neck, and a sword tip pressing into his skin. “The penalty for threatening a member of the royal family is death. And not even your brother would be able to save you from the king’s justice.”

Ned and Rhaegar had formed in front of Lyanna and Ned had Ice drawn as well, but Oberyn held up both hands. “I was disarmed before I entered here, I can assure you.

Eddard looked to his good-brother, trying to read his silence. Rhaegar seemed to take in his word thoughtfully before he said anything further. “When I was last heard from your brother, he was aware of every aspect of what has happened. His main concern, and he assured me it would be yours as well, that Elia’s safety was his only concern.” Then, with a nod, Barristan released the Dornishman.

Now Lyanna spoke, pushing him and her husband apart. “Do you think I would wish what happened to them on anyone?” she asked, her voice low. “I wept when Rhaegar told me what happened. The brutality of it…” Her eyes looked wet now, anger turning over to grief. “While I did not have a lot of contact with your sister, she considered me a friend. She knew her place was never here in the capitol and she was glad to be rid of the place. So pray tell, how can you ask any woman who has birthed or been with child, if they took pleasure in the death of a mother and two babes? One that I myself wish to avenge.”

Ned felt a jolt of alarm when she spoke. The Prince of House Martell, however, seemed to back down and accept her vow. “I apologize for my words, your grace. I needed to see with my own eyes how you would react to such an accusation. I know of the honor you and your house hold, above all. And I see the wolf, ready to strike at those with no honor.”

“My sister is a force to be reckoned with for sure. But please, forgive me for being suspicious, How can we be sure that you truly are on the side of Prince Rhaegar?” Ned asked. He didn’t feel at ease with the Red Viper.

“Because, my lord, I had knowledge of your sister’s movements as she and the prince left the Red Mountains of Dorne,” he said. “Do you not think I would know she and Rhaegar were there? That I would not wish to bring my grievances directly to him for his treatment of Elia? I knew she and the Kingsguard were in Blackhaven, where she acquired the armor that was to mimic what she wore at Harrenhal. I know of the Pact of Ice and Fire that was at last accomplished with their marriage, and I have seen in Rhaegar Targaryen the greatness that comes around only once in many lifetimes.” Now he looked directly at the prince. “You are not a cruel man, one who gives his heart to a maiden then takes it away quickly and cruelly.” He glanced at Ned, making an allusion he was clear on. “I know your father chose Elia to keep you away from the lions. I would hope it would have lasted, but fate has roles for us to play, and Elia was not to be your queen.”

“Then why are you here, Prince Oberyn?” Rhaegar asked.

“For the same reason as you, as all of you. Justice. Justice for the murders of Elia Martell, Rhaenys Targaryen and Aegon Targaryen,” Oberyn enunciated. “I want the head of the beast who slaughtered my sister.”

‘Then you have much to discuss, I see. Very well,” Lyanna said, curtsying to the men. “I had an ill sleep last night and awoke to find you not there, my husband. But I am reassured you are well. I know you had concerns about Prince Oberyn in my presence, so I think I shall return to sleep.” She kissed the prince on the cheek and then Ned, leaving afterward.

Ned followed her a few footsteps outside the tent, watching her leave with Arthur trailing her. She had a demeanor about her that left him unsettled.

Ned knew by the tone of her voice, she was up to something. But he had no idea what it could be.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to apologize to anyone offended by the end of Lyanna's dream, the description of the rape and Lyanna's reaction. It is meant to be directed at Cersei. They are meant, in Cersei's mind to be rivals and I was implying that even as this horrible crime was being committed against her, Cersei Lannister was still never going to have Robert's love it affection. I struggled with how to get that across. Know that I'm not entirely comfortable with the way it came out.


	9. The Confession of Jon Arryn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a fact about the rebellion that no one knows amongst the New Loyalists, except Jon Arryn. Now, with more Lannister banners approaching the besieged capital, he comes forward with the truth. Ned learns good news, prompting Rhaegar and Lyanna to plan for the future.

It was mid-morning when the rider carried the banners of House Royce.  The man was near breathless by the time Rhaegar, Lyanna and Jon Arryn got to him.  “My lord,” the soldier said. “My lord Royce sent me to inform you, a convoy has been spotted coming up the Goldroad by our scouts.  They carry the lion sigil.”

 

“More Lannisters,” Jon grumbled.  “I thought Tywin’s entire host was in  King’s Landing. It has certainly seemed like it anytime I have been allowed in.”

 

“It is a small group, my lord, along with a wheelhouse,” came the further information.

 

Now Rhaegar sounded confused.  “Who would come to troop encampments in a wheelhouse?” he asked, looking to Jon and his wife.

 

“A woman,” Lyanna stated.  “A lady. And if the coach bears the Lannister banners, it means Cersei Lannister has been sent for by her father.”

 

Jon thought about it for a moment.  It made sense, as the Old Lion was now entrenched with Robert in the Red Keep.  Having his daughter join him only added to the scene of the future. 

 

“Have the wheelhouse stopped and directed here. When they arrive, we will offer hospitality to the travelers.  If it is indeed she, I wish to speak with Lady Cersei myself. Perhaps she can carry a message to her father when she sees him,” the prince decided.

 

“You wish to speak to Cersei?” Something about that sounded as if it horrified Lyanna.  It looked as though for the past year, she had been in a competition with the lioness, even though they had only briefly interacted a handful of times.

 

In some way, without Lyanna Stark even knowing it, she had been.  But Jon thought it was best to tell her and Rhaegar that later. 

 

“We have been at a stalemate here for some time,” Rhaegar replied instead.  “Lord Arryn is getting nowhere with Robert--”

 

“Because every time I am allowed to speak with him, Tywin is there,” he muttered

 

“And I still refuse to take the capital by force.”

 

“Perhaps you are correct, your grace.  But I think if you do speak with her, it should include myself and Ned, at the very least,” Jon suggested.

 

“And me,” the princess said.  Her husband looked as though he was going to object, but she stopped him.  “I do not trust her around you. I have always sensed she had an agenda that involved you, and I do not think she would not try to still employ it now.”

 

Rhaegar now looked at him.  “I agree with the princess,” he said, “and she is not wrong about Cersei, and Tywin having an agenda.”  The prince’s expression demanded he tell more, but Jon shook his head. “We should call a council before we go there.”

 

Now Jon turned to the rider.  “As the prince said, have the wheelhouse brought here.  It should take some time to arrive, to speak with Lady Cersei ourselves.”  Then the rider took off back to the Goldroad. When he was gone, Jon turned to Rhaegar and Lyanna.  “Your grace, I feel, while we wait, there is something I have not told you that I should have. It is only in the rather quick arrival from Casterly Rock that I feel it needs to be spoken of at once.”

 

The prince gave him a steely look but merely nodded, ordering him to gather whoever he felt needed to hear this information.

 

It was a short time later that Jon, Rhaegar and Lyanna were joined by Ned, Hoster, Stannis, Olenna, Gerold and Oberyn.  When they were all seated, he closed his eyes, the shame too great to look his prince in the eye. “Your grace, there is some critical intelligence you do not know that goes to the heart of this rebellion.  And it begins with Tywin Lannister. You know, of course, that it was Tywin’s wish that you be betrothed to his daughter, correct?”

 

“Yes, I know the matter was brought to my father,” Rhaegar answered.  “It was one of the last things we actually agreed upon.”

 

“And it was because you and your father agreed about that topic that the true seeds of the rebellion were planted,” Jon explained.

 

“I know he resigned as Hand almost immediately,” Lyanna put in.  “But isn’t that a tad excessive to begin to plot a rebellion over an answer of no?”

 

“Sadly, my dear, it is not.  Men’s egos have been offended by less,” Olenna corrected gently.  “And a father wishing his daughter to be a future queen make it even moreso.”

 

“Lady Olenna is correct.  Tywin was furious. And when he returned to Casterly Rock, he looked at the landscape of the Seven Kingdoms.  It took him some time, but he came up with a way he thought the Targaryen dynasty could be overthrown.”

 

“And you know this because?” Rhaegar asked, a dangerous tone in his voice.

 

“I know because I was approached for a part of the plan,” Jon admitted honestly.  He knew the prince could demand his head, but he had already been the lord to call for the banners for a war, so a minor part in this scheme seemed paltry in comparison.  “What Tywin saw was his two elder children; a newly made Lord of the Stormlands a little older than his twins; three healthy youths from the North, all in the same age range and one who was to be Lord of Winterfell sometime in the future; and two beautiful daughters of the Riverlands, again, of a similar age.”

 

“He was planning marriage alliances,” Oberyn guessed correctly.

 

“Yes, he was,” Jon said.  “He never needed to approach Dorne because, by then, Rhaegar was betrothed to Elia and your house had no children of age.  Tywin is a master game player and he set the board in a way to isolate the Targaryens, maybe not now, but sometime in the near future.  It did start, and aid his plan, that Ned was sent to me.”

 

Jon looked at Lyanna first.  “You are the same age as both Cersei and Jaime, with you, Ned,” he glanced at his foster son, “a mere few years older.  He planned on having you betrothed to Cersei, after your time in the Vale, and Lyanna to Jaime.”

 

Now he glared at Hoster, who was shifting uncomfortably.  “He convinced you to offer Catelyn’s hand to Brandon Stark and Lysa’s to Robert.”

 

Finally, Ned spoke, his voice shaky from the confession.  “That would unite the North, West, Stormland and Riverlands all in marriage.”

 

“Precisely.  And he was well aware of how unstable your father was becoming, especially after Duskendale.  It aided his plan perfectly,” Jon told the assembled.

 

“And it did work, in a fashion,” Olenna surmised.  

 

“Yes, but to the exclusion of the West,” Jon countered.  “When you called for the council at Harrenhal and Aerys surprised you by being there, the plan began to get away from Tywin.  The first to fall was Jaime.”

 

“He was made a knight of the Kingsguard.”  Gerold was seeing what was happening.

 

Nodding, Jon went on.  “That was to spite Tywin in particular.  Take away his heir, and remove a groom from being in play.  Almost immediately…”

 

“I suggested Robert,” Ned continued.  “I remember Father being dismayed about a match for Lyanna falling through, but I had no idea it was Jaime.”

 

“But you were aware of Robert taking a fancy to your sister.”  Eddard nodded to Jon’s comment.

 

“It was Tywin who approached me with the idea of sending Lysa to the Vale,” Hoster spoke up at last.  “As she was the second girl, she was less desirable and further away, should something happen to Edmure.”

 

“Even if Jaime was not available, Tywin still thought it could be pulled off, maybe even a little better, with a marriage between the Vale and the Riverland,” Jon explained.  “Then came the Knight of the Laughing Tree and the last day of the Tourney.”

 

“When Rhaegar crowned me to try and recognize the three victories in the days before,” Lyanna said.  “Even though I had not yet fallen in love with you…”

 

“...I made my feelings rather clear,” Rhaegar concluded.  “And then, months later, we ran off together.”

 

“Causing Tywin to lose the board.  With Lyanna gone, it meant Robert had no forthcoming lady in the Stormlands, and with it leading to Brandon’s rashness at demanding you, your grace, it was the event that pushed Ned to Catelyn, thus, Cersei losing a husband.”  Jon was glad to have it all out, at last. He looked around the table, noting the various expression and, in some corners, lack thereof.

 

“And Tywin had no other piece to play, as I am certain he would never have brought Tyrion up as a potential match,” Olenna shared.

 

“The only reason he has managed to pull it off to any degree is the rebellion.  He has been sitting at Casterly Rock the whole time, waiting to see which side came out on top,” Ned reasoned.  “He must not have wanted to wait any longer and decided to side with Robert is because he saw the rest of us coming to our senses at last.”  Now, he stole a glance at Jon, but there was only disappointment in his eyes.

 

“If he wanted to overthrow my father, we could have worked together!” Rhaegar raged for an instant, the Silver Prince losing his well-known temperament.

 

“But he did not want to just overthrow your father,” Oberyn now said.  “The Lannister forces were humiliated by your ancestor. Most of those swords that make the Iron Throne were from men of the Westerlands.”

 

“He grew up in the shadow of a weak father,” Olenna counseled.  “He rose above that, was even named Hand of the King, who was his friend, no less.  But his pride took a hit when his proposal was rejected.”

 

“It has not helped that Jaime had taken the white cloak as an honor, which I have no doubt angers Tywin even more,” Gerold said.  “All he is left with his Tyrion who, despite his deformities, is quite clever, maybe even more so than his father.”

 

“You have known this the whole time?” Rhaegar asked, the undercurrent of his anger towards Jon becoming more evident.

 

“And I am prepared to face the consequences, my prince.”  Jon stood as he said that, waiting for an order to the Lord Commander for his arrest.

 

But Rhaegar surprised him.  “I am not prepared to sentence you, not for what you have confessed.  It does in some way explain why you have sought negotiations in the time we have been at the city gates and I do thank you for those efforts.”  He then turned to Gerold. “For the time being, you and Lord Tully are to be confined to your tents. Lord Stark, please see to it that some of your Northerners are guarding them at all times.”

 

“Me, your grace?!” Hoster looked appalled that he was also being judged the same as Jon Arryn.

 

“Yes, Lord Tully,” Ned spoke up, quietly at first.  “You even more than Jon knew what positions you were moving Lysa and Catelyn into.  You, more than Jon, conspired with Tywin to overthrow the Targaryens. The Targaryens gave you the Riverlands three hundred years ago, yet you took part in trying to end them.”

 

He made an attempt to go for Hoster, but Rhaegar stopped him.  “Whatever his part in the scheme was, he is your good-father, Ned.  And he has bent the knee to me. There will be a judgment made of him, but not this night.”  Then the prince looked to Gerold, who, with a few other men, led Hoster out of the tent.

 

Jon himself was about to be escorted out when he spoke in his own defense.  “I knew of the scheme, of that, I cannot deny. But I had the hope to curtail it with the overthrow of your father.  As I knew of Tywin’s plans, so too, I knew of your plans. I had hoped that after Harrenhal we may have been able to work together for the goal we all shared--the end of your father’s reign.”

 

Prince Rhaegar nodded in understanding.  “I realize that my lord, and shall take that into account as I think it over.  You will be escorted to your tent, but when the Lannister party arrives, I do think it is still advisable for you to join us for the discussion.”  

 

“Thank you, my prince.”  Other than that, Jon knew he had nothing left to say.  He allowed himself to be taken to his tent. There, he sat and prayed to any god he knew of, that the prince would show mercy, to Hoster and Jon himself.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the back of his mind, Rhaegar was more than aware of the unrest stirring against his father, so it was little surprise that schemes were flying around the realm.  He wasn’t even entirely shocked that Jon Arryn or Hoster Tully would partake in such plans. Hoster was ambitious, looking for whatever means to advance his house while Arryn was more a conciliator, wanting to work together for a common goal.  And it was a common goal, to unseat the Mad King.

 

“They should both be sent to the Wall,” Stannis demanded.  He was a man bound by the hard letter of justice. He only joined the rebels because Robert demanded it of him, but he did not agree on general principle.  Ned had told Rhaegar about the confrontation between the two brothers in the throne room. Robert had ordered Stannis to sail to Dragonstone and capture his mother and brother, but Stannis had refused.  “They have both confessed to conspiring against the crown. The penalty is death, but you can’t execute the lords of two great houses.”

 

“Hoster, maybe,” Oberyn said, “but Arryn has at least come forward of his own volition.  And he stated he hoped to join the two factions seeking to oust the Mad King.”

 

Rhaegar looked to Olenna, but for once, the Queen of Thorns had nothing to say, so he swung around to Ned.  “Lord Stark, you are the one with the deepest connection to both men. One is your father my marriage, the other by fostering.  What say you?”

 

Lord Eddard remain true to his nickname, the Quiet Wolf.  Rhaegar knew he was struggling with these very questions, so the prince dismissed all the others, save for Ned and Lyanna.

 

When the three were alone, Lyanna clasped her brother’s hand.  “Ned?” she asked gently. “What are you thinking?”

 

“I am thinking of how we have all been manipulated, by Tywin, by Hoster, even by Father,” he replied bitterly.  Then he looked at her. “I am even more sorry that you were ever forced into such a situation with Robert. Sadly, I can see him aligning himself with Tywin for such reasons.”

 

“It’s funny,” Rhaegar said, as he thought through what Ned had just admitted, “but I cannot see Robert wanting to take it to the Iron Throne.”  When both the Starks looked to him, he expounded. “He may have little love for my family, but I don’t see him as the type who would want to be king.”

 

“Unless he is being pushed to it, by Lord Tywin,” Lyanna suggested.  “Robert sits upon the throne, but the Lannisters would be the true rulers of the Seven Kingdoms.  He’d have as much gold as he wanted for whores, drink, tourneys.”

 

“The treasury was full, the last time I heard from the Master of Coin.  It would take time to empty it on such things,” Rhaegar disagreed.

 

“But if it could be done, to whom would the crown look for continued financing?” Ned asked as if he found another piece.  “Lord Tywin Lannister. More specifically, Lannister gold.”

 

That was something Rhaegar had not thought of.  Robert was a man much easier to manipulate than he was.  Tywin would not think to ingratiate himself with Rhaegar on the throne, not after he had resigned over not marrying Cersei.  And he who controlled the purse strings of the kingdom would, in fact, control the kingdom.

 

Then Lyanna spoke up.  “The other way to ensure holding onto power is through marriage.  From what Jon said, Tywin had eight of us lined up perfectly for marriage.  Yet, all those matches have fallen through, for the most part. The North and Riverlands are bound together, but not in the way he wanted.  And, there are few of us left to play with. I chose Rhaegar, Lysa is married to Jon, Jaime is Kingsguard, Brandon is dead, so who are the only two remaining from the original plan?  Robert and Cersei.”

 

“He intends to marry Cersei to Robert, another ensnaring,” Rhaegar realized.  “We must hope our men make haste to the Goldroad and bring her here.” 

 

“Do you think she will admit it if she even knows?” Ned asked as he and Lyanna remained sitting.

 

“She knows, of that, I have little doubt.  Jaime has always said she was the one who remained the closest to Tywin.  She has always wanted to emulate her father and with Jaime unable to rule Casterly Rock, she sees herself as her father’s true heir,” Rhaegar said as he signaled his Kingsguard.  “Arthur, Oswell, Barristan, keep a lookout for when the party traveling from Casterly Rock arrives. Gerold, when they come, please fetch Lord Arryn and meet us back here. The princess, Lord Stark and Lord Commander Hightower will meet with the Lannister host.  And Gerold, have a message prepared for Cersei to give her brother. I think it is past time we addressed Ser Jaime’s broken oaths.”

 

The four men moved as ordered.  Then, Rhaegar turned to his wife.  “I feel uncomfortable with you here--”

 

“Well, I am remaining by your side, and I will not be commanded otherwise,” Lyanna insisted.  

 

The prince shot a look to Arthur over her head.  “--but I know there is little I can say to convince you to not remain here,” he finished.  She blushed when he said that, as he added, “I am only thinking of you and our babe. I know I was overly cautious regarding Prince Oberyn, but Cersei...she has a look to her at times that reminds me of my father.”

 

She nodded.  “I understand, my lord husband, and my carrying your child does not lessen the guilt I still feel for all that has happened,” she said with a sigh.  “I still think I must speak with Robert, at some point. I think he is owed at least some explanation from my own lips.”

 

“Cersei Lannister, first, then we shall figure out a way to deal with my kin,” he promised.

 

It was then a runner came to them.  “My Lord Stark!” the boy called as he ran with a scroll in his hand.  “A message from Riverrun!”

 

Rhaegar noted the anxious look that took hold of his goodbrother as he was handed the scroll.  He unraveled it, his eyes traveling over the parchment a few time. “Catelyn has given birth!” he cried joyously.  “I have a son!”

 

In spite of all that had befallen Rhaegar and those close to him, he could not help but share in the good news.  It was Lyanna, however, that put the feelings they were probably both experiencing into words. “A son.” She put her hand on her belly, speaking to the babe she carried.  “Do you hear that? You will have a cousin to play with as you grow. I can already see you two when we visit, sparring with each other and climbing the walls of Winterfell.”  Then she looked back to her brother. “Has Catelyn named him yet?”

 

The sparkle went out of Ned’s eyes for a minute.  “She has already had the naming ceremony. He is called Robb...after my dear friend.”  The last two words were drawled out, as if distasteful.

 

“You have not told her of what we have learned since we arrived here?” Rhaegar asked.  With a shake of the head, the prince chose to dispel any concerns Lord Stark may have had.  “Remember, before there was the possibility of Robert Baratheon being your brother, by law, he was my cousin.  He was a boy I called a friend on occasion, and he was a friend, even if he can be one no longer. Your son shall carry the name in memory of a friend we have both lost, and say no more about it.”

 

It was a while later that he and Lyanna were alone.  “Do you really mean what you said before about the name of Ned’s son?” she asked him.

 

He offered her a sheepish smile.  “I find that it is often better to say a little white lie to keep peace in families.  But I refuse to see Robert in the face of a newborn child.” And he meant that. He figured that neither Ned nor Hoster would have spoken of the scale of Robert’s betrayal to Catelyn, so she would have little understanding about the implication of the name.

 

“Have you thought of a name for our son?” she asked him next.

 

“Have you?”

 

His wife let out a little laugh.  “Yes, but I thought you would be determined to choose a very...Targaryen name.”

 

He smiled some more.  “It has been a thought.”  Her eyes implored him for his suggestion.  “I had thought of Aegon, but it has become rather overused, would you not say?”

 

“I would say,” she agreed.  “But he would be named after one of your forefathers who was king, am I correct?”

 

“Yes, but I think there are others we can choose from.  I have always admired King Jaehaerys. A wise man who lived a long life, with his great love and many children.”

 

Her smile turned mischievous.  “I, too, have thought of a name, one of my ancestors who was king.”  After a pause, she offered, “Jon, after King Jon Stark. Though, in light of what we learned today…”

 

“He defended his kingdom in the east?” he asked, trying to place the name.

 

“Yes, and built the Wolf’s Den.”

 

Something about that fact struck a chord with Rhaegar, but he would need to consult his books to investigate further.  As to her proposal, he replied, “Why can he not have two names? Or a nickname? There is nothing totally dissimilar with them.”  He smiled, played the name on his tongue. “King Jaehaerys ‘Jon’ Targaryen. How does it sound?”

 

“Sounds wonderful,” she answered, leaning in for a kiss.  

 

Before they could make the connection, Ser Arthur called into the tent.  “Your grace, the party from the Goldroad has arrived. Lady Cersei Lannister is being brought to you.”

 

A chill ran down his spine.  There were few people he could honestly say he loathes, but the golden lioness was one of them.  He must have been easy to read because it was Lyanna said, “Shall we go meet the golden bitch then?”

 

“Yes.  Let us get it over with.” 

  
  
  
  
  



	10. A Woman's Weakness, a Woman's Strength

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cersei vs. Lyanna. Need I say more?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the week's delay, but I hope I make it up here. The lioness vs. the dragonwolf. The woman who thought she was destined to be queen and the woman who really doesn't care if she is. 
> 
> They are the one relationship we'll never truly get to see here. I have long wondered what a meeting of them would be like. I think a lot of Cersei's issues were driven by the fact that Lyanna got what Lady Lannister always desired. One thing is for sure, when Cersei learns Jon is her and Rhaegar's son, I think that may totally unhinge her.

The raven had come as soon as King’s Landing had been overcome. Father had succeeded and wished for her presence in the capital, so Cersei Lannister wasted no time. She was glad to be rid of Casterly Rock, and her little gnome of a brother. Soon, she’d be reunited with Jaime and Father. And, from the way it sounded, she would finally be at the side of the man she was meant to be, before the cruel proclamations of a mad king drove them apart.

But the journey to the capital was not without incident, much to Cersei’s chagrin. Several leagues from the capital, they were stopped by a contingent of men wearing the sigil of House Royce, one of the rebel houses of the Vale.

“Who are you and why are you blocking our way?” she demanded impatiently.

“We have been ordered by our Lord to guard this road, milady,” the soldier replied. “Who is it that wishes to pass?”

“This is Lady Cersei Lannister, daughter of Lord Tywin Lannister. Her presence has been requested in the capital. Stand aside,” Ser Addam Marbrand replied, an order that was expected to be followed.

The guard eyed her suspiciously, then threw a look at one of his companions. “Allow me to pass!” she shouted, her anger growing.

“We have orders from Lord Royce, milady,” the other said. “Stay here and I shall bring him here.” Before she could even get a word out, the man took off, leaving the bulk of the group remaining where they were, blocking the road.

“I demand you allow us to pass,” Addam repeated as Cersei left the wheelhouse to stand face to face with the imbecile foot soldiers.

“I am the daughter of one of the most powerful houses in the realm. I demand you get out of my sight or I will see to it that your heads are on spikes in the capital!” She did not even try to contain her rage. Still, the men refused to move.

Not soon enough, the guard returned with another man, more regal than any of the others. She assumed it was Yohn Royce, though her memory of the man was from when she was still a child in King’s Landing. If it was indeed him, he was getting fat. When he reached them, he dismounted and bowed respectfully to her. “My lady, I am sorry for the inconvenience. After I was told who you were, I thought it best to send a messenger to my Lord Arryn. He should return shortly. While we wait can I offer you some refreshments? A glass of Arbor gold, perhaps?”

“I don’t want anything other than to get to King’s Landing. My presence in court has been requested by my father,” she explained, trying to rein in her temper.

“I understand, my lady, but I must obey the commands of my lord. They should be forthcoming,” he assured her. “We just must wait a little longer.” He swept his arm to where a table had been set up with cheese and wine.

Cersei stomped over, sat down and began sipping a glass of wine. Royce tried to engage her in small talk, but she purposely ignored him. As she finished the glass, a horse’s hooves could be heard. The man jumped from his horse and -after looking at her like a snake waiting to strike- whispered in his lord’s ear.

Royce nodded and dismissed his man. “My lady, I do apologize again, but I been given orders by the prince himself that you and your party should be directed to the Kingsroad. Lord Arryn, Lord Stark and the Prince and Princess will greet you there.”

She blinked at what she was being told. Hadn’t Father written of the tragic death of Princess Elia when he told her to come? What princess was Royce talking about? She played memories of conversations she’d overheard over the past year, of Rhaegar and his alleged crime of kidnap and rape. Everyone in the realm knew Rhaegar Targaryen would never be capable of doing such a thing, but what was the true story? A spike of fear ran through her as she was led back to the wheelhouse and they set off. She didn’t like what she was thinking.

The closer they came to the Kingsroad, the more distinct banners she saw. Most were Northern houses, Karstark suns, lizards of Reed and the flayed man of Bolton were waving in front of the two more prominent sigils, wolves of House Stark and the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen. Finally, the wheelhouse stopped, and Cersei was escorted out. It was then that she saw the silver hair of Rhaegar Targaryen.

If you asked any women in the Seven Kingdoms, they would all say he was the most gorgeous man in the world. Tall and lean, he looked like an angel walking amongst them with his head of hair worn a touch to his shoulders, and the indigo eyes sparkling in the sun. She had fallen in love with him when she had come to visit her father in King’s Landing, and it was a love that had never ended.

And then the witch told her she would marry the king. That was truly the most satisfying say of her life, even if most of what else the woman said made no sense. All that mattered was that she would be queen someday, and who but Rhaegar would be the king?

He was more in focus to her, with one of his Kingsguard to his left...and a short, dark-haired girl to his right, her hand grasped in his. That actually stopped her progression for a moment, seeing this other person with him. Suddenly, her blood ran cold, as if a wind from the North blew through the camp. Her brain was denying what she saw in front of her, even as she knew it to be true. Here, before her and at Rhaegar’s side, was Lyanna Stark.

As Cersei met the prince halfway from where both had come, she tried to ignore the Stark girl. Automatically, she bowed to him, low and devoted. “My prince, I am honored you wished to see me. I have been anxious since you had my father call me to come to the capital,” she said softly. “In truth, I have been anxious since word reached Casterly Rock that you had gone missing.”

He smiled at her pleasantly, as if something of her words amused him. “I thank you for your concern, my lady, but I have been quite well,” he said before a shadow passed over his face. The Stark girl squeezed his hand and he grasped hers tightly as if it were a lifeline thrown to him. Every little motion they made to each other inflamed her anger bit by bit. She barely saw when he closed his eyes and then reopened them, his attention back to her. “My lady, we have much to speak about. Would you please join me in the tent. I am having the ending day meal put out for us and wish for you to join.”

She wanted to speak with him and him alone, but the Northerner gave her every indication she would be present when they ate. Now, Lyanna was focused on Cersei, matching the fire in her eyes with ice in her own. But she would not cede an inch of ground to her, this harlot who obviously seduced Rhaegar away from her. What could she have that Cersei did not? 

Head held high, she entered the tent, where she was seated at one end of the table. Rhaegar was gentlemanly, of course, holding the chair for her. But once she was seated, he did the same for the girl, who was given the spot of honor to his right. Which, she noted, was directly across from Cersei herself. As the prince sat, they passed looks between them. This girl nodded her chin in Cersei’s direction and Rhaegar finally caught on, a blush to his cheek. “I am sorry, but I thought you two would have met, perhaps at Harrenhal. Lady Cersei Lannister, may I present Lyanna of House Stark,” he introduced. Lyanna bowed her head in acknowledgment before he added, “my wife.”

Even with him saying those words, Cersei would not believe it. She had heard a rumor of them running off, naturally, but she ignored it. What was there in the North but snow and barbarians? Father had briefly mentioned something of a fuss stirred on the last day of the tourney, but whatever it was, to Tywin Lannister, it was overshadowed by the fact that her brother Jaime had been named by Aerys to the Kingsguard. He had been so consumed with those developments that he paid little attention to her and the few questions she had about the details concerning the whatever it was that happened with the prince.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Lyanna Stark. “I have heard much about you, my lady. We did not have the opportunity to meet at Harrenhal, but word of you has reached even Winterfell. It is a pleasure to be in your company, at last.”

The words sounded sweet and genuine, but Cersei Lannister knew women, knew their pleasantries often masked claw ready to strike. She would have to play this carefully, ready to bare her teeth when needed. “I am sorry to say, my lady, that I have not heard much of you,” she smiled but unable to hide the malicious edge to it. “And certainly nothing of your marriage.”

“Then you must be the only person in the Seven Kingdoms to have not heard of me. My marriage, well, that was less known,” Lyanna responded with a small laugh before she swallowed nervously. “I regret what has been said of me, what has been assumed about me, and I pray to the gods I and my actions can be forgiven. All this war and death...over a missed message to my family.”

“A missed message?” 

“Yes. You see, I did send word to my brother and family that Rhaegar and I were in love and planned to be together, but it failed to reach them. My brother Brandon sadly had a temper and assumed the worst.” She stopped, he voice growing thick. She had a good act going, Cersei would not deny that. But had Rhaegar truly fallen for it? 

He obviously had, because he was comforting her, drying her tears. Things he should be doing for her if it had been she who lost a father and brother.

After a moment, Lyanna’s resolve set in and she was composed once more. “I am sorry. You were not brought here to listen to my woes. But I must say, I would not think to see you here in King’s Landing, so soon after the city was sacked.”

“My father sent for me,” Cersei said. “He said my urgent presence was needed, as he had taken the city. I assumed from the letter, he had joined his forces with those of House Targaryen, so it confuses me that you are here, my prince, while House Lannister is within the city gates.”

“Lord Tywin did make his way into the city, but it was at the side of House Baratheon,” Rhaegar explained. “After my father demanded my return to King’s Landing, Lyanna and I planned to reunite in the Riverlands, where the rebel forces were marshaling and meet with House Stark, House Arryn and House Baratheon to explain all that had happened. Jon Arryn and Ned Stark came, but my cousin Robert stubbornly refused. While we were entreating, his forces attacked those of his allied houses before marching south.”

Rhaegar stopped speaking when the tent flap was lifted and Arryn and Stark entered with Lord Commander Gerold Hightower. Cersei was quite frankly shocked to see the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard entrenched with the rebel forces. She was trying to figure out what it was that had happened exactly as they sat down and what the meant to do with her. It was clear she was no prisoner, but could not yet see another reason for being here with this group.

Gerold nodded at her. “My Lady, it is a pleasure to finally meet. Your brother Jaime never stops talking about you, your beauty, your intelligence, your strength.”

“Thank you, Lord Commander,” she accepted with grace.

Rhaegar drew the attention back to himself. “Since we are all here, I think it best to begin,” he said, turning his attention to Cersei. “My lady, I think you ought to know, Lord Arryn has told us of some very interesting plans of your father’s.”

“My...father? I’m sorry, your grace, I don’t think I know what you are talking about,” she told them, truly confused. 

“Yes,” Rhaegar replied slowly. “It seems that in the wake of Aerys’ rejection of his proposed betrothal between the two of us, Tywin went on to plan on marriage alliances to strengthen ties between the West, North, Stormlands and Riverlands. He planned to have the Tully sisters married to Brandon and Robert, Lyanna to your brother and,” he paused, adding a hint of suspense to his information, “Ned to you.” He was eying her now, waiting for a reaction. They both were, she knew it. In a time like this, she should have remained cool and collect. 

Unfortunately, she did not.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Lyanna Stark of House Targaryen had heard a great deal over the years about Cersei Lannister. Not one of the comments was good. Oh, she was beautiful, everyone said. But it was all exterior, not an ounce of any beauty of the soul. 

Perhaps it had been shaped by the death of her mother giving birth to the younger brother, Tyrion. She had heard how awful she had been to him as well, how he was a monstrosity, deformed, hideous. Ser Oswell had once said Cersei had called it murder, Joanna Lannister’s tragic death, murder by a newborn babe. But the same fate had befallen Lyarra Stark, and Lyanna had never born a moment of anger at Benjen. In fact, she treasured him as the last gift her mother gave to their family, as the mother he would never know.

One night, when Rhaegar had mentioned to her about how Tywin Lannister wanted him to marry the girl, he said he had heard enough about her to already form a picture of her. When they did meet, a few weeks later that was to be the beginning of an informal engagement, what he saw was worse than he ever imagined. He promptly went to his father and asked for a rejection. Already paranoid about the Warden of the West, Aerys had readily agreed. 

Now, as she met this woman, who by her calculations was but a few moons younger than Lyanna herself, Lyanna tried to form her own opinion. She tried to set aside all the rumors, all the whispers. She wanted to judge the woman by her demeanor.

Yet from the moment she stepped out of the wheelhouse and presented herself to Rhaegar, she knew every word spoken about Cersei Lannister behind her back was true. 

Lyanna watched Cersei very carefully as she heard what Rhaegar was saying. The first look passed over her face when he told her of the idea of Lyanna becoming Lady of Casterly Rock. Lyanna thought there was more to her disgust than the idea of a Northern daughter as the wife of the Warden of the West. It almost seemed like jealousy, as if those green eyes hid a monster ready to leap out at her. Was she jealous of the thought of Jaime with a wife?

But then, when he said she was intended to her brother, something did explode within the Lannister girl. “That’s a lie!” she shouted, any decorum stripped off. “My father would never wed me to be the wife of a mere lord!”

“The Starks are one of the great houses, Lady Cersei,” Jon Arryn reminded her calmly. “It would be a marriage of equal ranks. You would reign over the greatest amount of land in the Seven Kingdoms, bringing the wealth of the West with you.”

“You would not wish such a title?” Lyanna asked. She admitted to herself, she was goading the other woman, but her mischievous side couldn’t help it. “And my brother is one of the finest men in the whole of Westeros. You would not find a more noble and loyal man in him as your husband.”

“I am to marry a king,” she snarled at Lyanna. That made her quirk an eyebrow. Something must have stopped her there, realizing she had said too much, but after a moment, she seemed not to care. “It has been foretold that I will be a queen and bear the king three golden children.” 

“And perhaps you still shall,” Rhaegar said soothingly. “Tell me, in the scroll he sent you, did your Lord Father tell you why he wished for you to join him in the capital? Even with it still under a state of siege?” She said nothing, so he continued. “Mind you, I have not spoken directly to your father, but after hearing of the reasons why he put together the matches he did, and knowing the states of those couples, my wife came to a likely conclusion.”

Cersei’s eyes fell back on her and Lyanna could not help the satisfaction she was feeling as she spoke. “As Rhaegar said, Robert was to marry Lysa Tully and my brother Brandon, Catelyn. In fact, were it not for the fact that he believed me to be in danger, he would have been able to go through with the wedding. But, Brandon believed I was being defiled and took off to the capital, demanding to see Rhaegar.” She looked to Ned, sharing the grief they still felt. “However, that was not the first chink in the plan. That was when Aerys named Jaime to the Kingsguard. That meant he would not be Lord of Casterly Rock and not be able to marry. Ned stepped into the breach, proposing a match with Robert, who readily accept. Now, it was Lysa who was left out, to which Lord Arryn came forward for. And, when Brandon died, Lord Tully pressed that the union between his house and House Stark remain as is, only with Ned the groom.”

“That would have left your father, the mastermind behind all of this, with no child married into this array of alliances,” Ned continued. 

“But then, Rhaegar and I chose each other, leaving Robert out, just as much as you,” From the expression she was seeing, it was obvious that Cersei was coming to a similar conclusion as she had earlier. “When my brother finally entered King’s Landing after the sack, he traveled to the Red Keep to see Robert.”

Ned spoke up, giving a first-person account. “I found Robert sitting upon the Iron Throne.” Cersei’s face grew darker with every word. “It seems Robert has claimed the throne by right of conquest, with Tywin backing him. In fact, he went so far as to have the claim verified by Grand Maester Pycelle.” 

“As such, the new ‘king’ needs a queen. And, as you said earlier, your father has requested the urgent presence of you in King’s Landing.” Lyanna decided to let Cersei draw her own conclusions.

Unfortunately, she didn’t see the slap that came but felt it all the same. On instinct, she served one back to Lady Cersei, a red mark on her cheek to match the one on Lyanna’s. It was after that one that Gerold was up at once, standing between the two ladies before the aggression in both grew.

Lyanna took a step back, looking from Jon to Ned to Rhaegar. “Can you men please all leave. I think it best now that Lady Cersei and I speak alone.” Jon and Ned left immediately, but Rhaegar did not budge. “Please?” she implored. “Ser Gerold can stay. I know he will allow no harm to come to me and our son. However, these words to her are best between just us women.”

Rhaegar looked from Cersei to Lyanna, planting a soft kiss on her forehead before following the others. Gerold took few steps back, waiting to see if he would be needed.

Lyanna turned back to the Lady of the West. The shock on her face was turned to looks of disgust. “You...are pregnant?” 

“We are married. It is something that is expected to happen. I am happy the gods have blessed us so soon, in light of what happened to his children with Elia. And their mother,” she began as she returned to her seat, “But that is not the matter I think we need to speak about. You say you were told that it was your fate to marry a king. Pray tell me more of this fortune.” When the other woman was less than forthcoming, Lyanna added, “I know it is said we Northerners are a superstitious lot, but I do find the ability to tell the future a fascinating trade to deal in.” Still unwilling, Lyanna played her last card, reminding her of her rank. “I am your princess, so do not make me order you to speak of it.”

Cersei’s mouth was a straight line. Not budging up or down. She walked around the table, directly across from Lyanna and told her tale. “There was a woman outside Lannisport who was said to be a witch. I sought her out and demanded she tell me about my future. She said I had three questions I could ask. I asked when I would marry the prince, if I would be queen and if we would have children.”

“What every girl of noble birth wishes to know,” Lyanna mused aloud. Then she nodded for Cersei to continue.

“She said I would not marry the prince, but I would marry the king. She said I would be queen and that,” there was a pause before she finished, “we would have three children.”

Lyanna knew she was being less than forthcoming, almost as soon as the words were out of her mouth. “Is that really what she said?” Her voice implied there was more.

Cersei narrowed her eyes. “She said I would be queen for a time, but then another would come along, younger and more beautiful and that I would have three children but the king would have twenty,” she said. “So you see, it is my destiny.”

Lyanna stood and went to the table where wine had been put out. “My lady, you do understand, most prophecies are not so literal. We tell ourselves they are because they are often what we want to hear.” She poured two goblets, placing one in front of Tywin’s daughter as she sat next to her. “Let us take your fortune for example. It says you would not marry the prince, but the king. As I said earlier, when my brother entered the throne room looking for Lord Baratheon, he was seated on the Iron Throne. He claimed it by right of conquest. So, he, in essence, declared himself king. And remember, with Rhaegar and I now married, he has lost another bride among those planned by your father. That leaves you free to marry him and, if he is able to hold the throne, become queen almost immediately.”

Without letting her get a word in, Lyanna moved on. “Now you were also told you would have three children, but the king twenty.” Again, Lyanna could not stop the smirk on her lips. “I am sure you do know of Robert’s reputation, my lady?”

There was a barely suppressed rage threatening to burst from Cersei as she answered with a simple, “Yes.”

“You see how one can look at the witch’s words? You take them as being in your favor, but they can easily not be,” Lyanna concluded.

Cersei was the one now smiling. “You say Robert has all but declared himself king, but if Aerys is dead that means the true king is Rhaegar.”

“You are correct, my lady. But I have been told myself of portents of the future,” she said, “and from a source I feel is more believable than a traveling mummer. This person has seen his children dead, shrouded in the cloaks of the murderers. He has seen his son fight a great battle...and he has seen his own funeral where he was proclaimed the ‘king uncrowned’”. She sat forward with her last words. “Rhaegar has seen those events in his future, and sadly, one of them has come true. Princess Rhaenys and Prince Aegon were brutally murdered, very likely by men of your house and when Ned found Robert atop the throne, the childrens’ bodies were laid in front, covered by Lannister cloaks.”

Then Lyanna nodded to Gerold who left them returning with Rhaegar, Ned and Jon. “Lady Cersei, there is a message that needs to be conveyed to Lord Baratheon and Lord Lannister,” Rhaegar said pleasantly when he re-entered. He reached for a scroll Jon was holding. “Please see that they receive this promptly. There is much that needs to be discussed.”

Cersei looked at the scroll than at Lyanna. “You think you have won? Well, you have not. Maybe you are correct. Maybe I will be queen to Robert Baratheon and start a dynasty with him that will outlast the Targaryens. We shall see what fate has in store for each of us.” She grabbed it out of Lord Arryn’s hand. “I will see that my father reads this.” She turned to leave but not without one last thing to say. “We shall see each other again, Lyanna Stark,” Cersei emphasized her house, “I swear it by the old gods and the new.” Cersei left without so much as a backward glance.

Something in her words made Lyanna shudder. She had no doubt Cersei Lannister would hold to that vow.


	11. Testing Loyalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Varys must choose between the king that is, and the king that should be. Jaime must choose between the man he has become and the one his family wishes him to be.

Lord Varys, the Master of Whisperers, had little birds. When people heard that they assumed it meant creatures of the air, taking flight to and from his chambers in the Red Keep, bringing him information and sending information out. But when the man himself spoke of his birds, it was more to do with the network of informants he had all around Westeros and even beyond. 

This had been the reason he had been brought from Essos to the court of Aerys II Targaryen. It had been more than midway through his reign that the madness began to consume him. He was suspicious of everyone, but especially, his son and heir, Rhaegar. To the normal observer, the crown prince was an amiable lad, kind-hearted and learned, and becoming a greater warrior by the day. But the king had become suspicious from the moment the boy was married to the daughter of the reigning princess of Dorne. Aerys distrusted the Dornish and, in Varys’ opinion, it was not without merit. But from what he had observed in his years in the Red Keep, Dorne was little threat to the Iron Throne. 

The true threat was, in fact, a friend of the king’s. Aerys had known Tywin Lannister from the time they were young. When he came to the throne, he had turned to the Lord of Casterly Rock, naming him Hand to the King. Tywin was actually humbled by the position and they worked well together for a few years. They became fathers not that far apart in years. Tywin’s wife, Lady Joanna Lannister, gave birth to twins, a girl, and a boy, and Varys knew from that moment, Tywin hoped to marry Cersei to Rhaegar.

The years went on and the king’s mind fled more and more. Then, when Cersei Lannister had been two and twelve, her father approached his good friend and proposed a union between their children. It would be a glorious pairing, the Silver Prince and the Golden Lady of the Rock. However, by that point, it was never going to move forward. Aerys was far too paranoid by then, and Rhaegar was far too knowledgeable by then. Tywin resigned his position and took himself and his daughter back to the West shortly before the marriage of Prince Rhaegar and Princess Elia Martell.

After that, Varys’ little birds began bringing whispers of the former Hand plotting. He never had the full intelligence of the plot, but he knew something was brewing. So did Aerys. But the lack of information he had for the king began to be dangerous for his personality. Now Aerys was suspicious of him. So, to save his neck, he swore to keep an eye on the son, the latest focus of the king’s rages. 

That bore fruit. He had heard of a tourney planned in the Riverlands and told the king. It was the first time in years that Aerys had left the capital. It had come to a surprise to those gathered and it ruined any gathering of lords the prince assembled. 

But Varys had not left Harrenhal completely empty-handed. He’d heard a song sung of a clandestine meeting between the prince and the most unlikely person. He didn’t think anything would come of it but decided to keep watch, see what developed. 

What came of the meeting was surprising to Varys most of all. War had come from the introduction of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. And it was a war that set the whole continent ablaze, the fire burning all the way to the gates of King’s Landing. It was the final action that Tywin Lannister needed for his goal of bringing a Lannister to the throne. 

Now Varys was left a choice. He could swear fealty to Robert I Baratheon, who had claimed the Iron Throne in the wake of the sack of King’s Landing, or he could risk everything he had accomplished and join the true king. 

Everyone knew about Varys’ little birds, and especially Aerys’ son. Somehow, the man, outside the city walls, had found one of them and passed along a message for the eyes of the Master of Whisperers alone. Cersei Lannister had been heading towards the capital after the sack but had been stopped. Rhaegar had sent his assurances that no harm would come to her. He and his allies only needed to speak with her, and then she would be sent to her father with a message. 

Varys’ little bird had been given this one in case the duplicitous woman failed to deliver. Varys smiled at the prince’s wisdom. He was also instructed to only come forward to Robert and Tywin if they had not heard the message within two days of Cersei’s arrival.

So, Varys waited. It was something he was good at. He waited until he was called for.

The Lannister guard appeared at his chambers, telling him his presence was requested in the Small Council chamber. When he appeared, he saw Tywin sitting at the table with Grand Maester Pycelle. “And will Lord Robert Baratheon be joining us?”

Tywin shot him a stern look. “The King shall be here shortly. I felt it behooved us to meet and discuss what to do about our problem.”

“Would that be the problem of the many rebel and loyalist armies surrounding us at all gate with the prince who most likely waits to avenge his father’s murder?” Varys asked. “Or the Dornish forces that have recently arrived from the south, looking for answers regarding the death of Princess Elia and her children? Could it also include Lord Stannis’ siding against his brother and protecting Dragonstone and the queen and young prince there for Prince Rhaegar?”

The Lord of Casterly Rock’s eyes were gleaming with danger. “Not the problems I was seeing.”

No retort came from the eunuch since Robert stormed into the room. He took his seat like an insolent child forced to come before his scolding parent. “I am here, Lannister. Now, tell me how we crush the dragons at our door!” he thundered.

Tywin’s stare swiveled from Varys to Robert. “I have heard from sources within their camp that Prince Rhaegar is holding his forces back, your grace,” he said. “Lord Stark reported on the state of the city when he came here and Rhaegar has chosen not to attack. Says he does not wish for the people to suffer more.”

Varys smiled at that. “The prince is as noble as ever,” he complimented. 

Lannister side-eyed him. “I have also been informed that my daughter is being detained by them. Most likely, she’ll be a hostage to be bartered for.”

Now Varys knew he was manipulating facts. “I too have my birds amongst their flock. They report a very different scenario,” Varys cut in, throwing a look back to Lord Tywin. “I have been told that she is being used as a courier and should be within the city walls shortly,” he supplied, serving a gentle retort.

Robert’s eyes shifted between the both of them. “Has there been any further word on where Lady Lyanna is?” he asked.

Varys raised a curious eyebrow. “My sources tell me that she has been within the rebel camps for more than a week. She traveled north with Ser Arthur Dayne and Ser Oswell Whent. I have also heard that Prince Oberyn Martell is part of the council Prince Rhaegar has surrounding him.”

“My sources say the same thing, your grace. And they have confirmed hearing she is with child,” Lannister concluded.

Robert shook his head. “Ned must be wrong. Lyanna would never have willingly gone with that dragonspawn.” He turned to Lannister. “Put together a force so that we can infiltrate their host and rescue her.”

The Master of Whisperers was shocked. He knew of Robert’s claims of loving the She-Wolf of Winterfell, but the way he spoke, it sounded near delusional. “My lord, while I admit I was not there to hear Lord Stark’s words, I take him for an honorable man. So, I cannot see him telling such a falsehood for any reason. It makes no sense that he would defend a man who even he suspects of kidnapping his sister unless it is true.”

“I agree with Varys,” Tywin added. It seemed Varys was in for more surprises. “Ned Stark would never say such a thing unless it was true.” Then the man got a queer look in his eyes. “As it is, I could never see Lady Lyanna as you did, your grace. She would never have comported herself as a true lady should. She would never have been satisfied as Lady of Storm’s End.”

“I am king now,” Robert said. “If to be a queen was what she wanted, it is only hers to ask!”

Tywin shook his head once more. “I doubt she would want to be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms even now. Besides, a Northern barbarian would not do anyway. What you deserve is a queen who knows how to be a proper lady.” He was going to do it, Varys realized. He had the stones to do it and he was going to. “Your Grace, I think, in the best interest of the realm, you should take a Southron lady as a wife. My daughter Cersei is young, healthy and has even been foretold she will be a queen one day.”

Robert laughed at the suggestion. Actually laughed! “Your Cersei is a fine, beautiful specimen, my Lord, and will make a fine lady to the right Lord. But Lord Rickard Stark betrothed Lyanna to me! I will marry her even if I have to kill Rhaegar with my bare hands.” He sat back, looking at each of them. “He denied me a confrontation at the Trident, but I will see his destruction.”

Silence reigned for a long moment until Pycelle spoke up. “I think, then, I should have a raven sent, set up a parley. Meet with Prince Rhaegar, Lord Eddard, Lord Stannis and perhaps even Lady Lyanna. If nothing else, we will have the true story from their mouths.”

Robert looked to pick up on that. “Yes, have Lyanna come,” he said. “Lord Tywin, I am sure there are men you know have the utmost loyalty to you. Pick out a few and set about a way to bring Lyanna to me when we meet.”

In that moment, Varys realized a madness had taken hold of Robert. He was proposing to do to Lady Lyanna Stark what he had accused Prince Rhaegar of doing. The Master of Whisperers hoped Lord Tywin would dissuade him from that course.

Varys never got his answer. A steward came and presented him with a note. Once he finished reading it, he stood. “My Lords, I think this is something we should discuss later.” Then he narrowed his eyes at Varys as he announced, “My daughter, Lady Cersei Lannister, has arrived in King Landing.”  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Burn them all. It was all Jaime Lannister ever heard. All day, all night, Aerys’ voice echoing in his head.

Burn them all. The smell of charred flesh, the sound of men screaming. Jaime would close his eyes and it would be like it was just yesterday. 

In the rare moments Jaime didn’t hear Aerys, or his victims, he’d hear the cries of a kind woman, one who was never anything but gentle and loving. He’d hear her being taken, and beaten and near-strangled, and all Jaime could do was stand by the door.

He was an anointed knight, one of seven of the greatest in the realm. He was sworn to protect the innocent, women, children. And yet, he was also avowed to protect the king, defend the king. A king who was a madman, a pyromaniac, cruel to almost everyone. 

When word got around that Prince Rhaegar was sending Ser Arthur Dayne and Ser Oswell Whent on a mission for him, Jaime begged Lord Commander Hightower to be included. He needed to be away from the capital, away from the screams he could not escape. A mission for the prince was the ideal tonic, Jaime had argued, away from the filth and stench of King’s Landing.

Hightower thanked him for his offer but said that Arthur and Oswell had been training for this for months and only they could go. Jaime was to stay in the Red Keep, protecting the King, the Queen, Prince Viserys, Princess Elia and her children. Rhaegar was entrusting the protection of his wife, children, mother and brother to Jaime personally.

Then Rhaegar himself disappeared a short time later, Ser Barristan with him. Now, Jaime was becoming alarmed, even more, when he dropped a comment about the recent departures from the Red Keep to Princess Elia.

She merely offered him an enigmatic smile, saying, “The future is moving into place, Ser Jaime. Rest assured, your prince knows what he is doing.”

Jaime had no idea what she meant by that, so he tried to put it out of his mind. It worked until he was informed by Prince Lewyn that the Lord Commander would be away as well.

“Tell me what is going on,” Jaime demanded. “I feel as though I am being left in the dark on something very important. If it has to do with the safety of the Royal Family, then I am obliged to know what is happening, don’t you think?”

“Those who need to know already do, Ser Jaime. When the time is right, you will know as well,” he had been told sternly.

It was a short time later that Rhaegar had returned, briefly, to the capital with Ser Barristan. He met with the king, who was in the midst of a trial and execution and then brought him to Princess Elia. Then Rhaegar left just as quickly, leaving Jaime to watch over his family.

The man breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the king was, at last, allowing his wife and son to leave for Dragonstone, but would spare none of the three remaining Kingsguard to go with them. Jaime had a hope that the next to be allowed passage out of King’s Landing would be Elia, Rhaenys and little Aegon, but still, they were held prisoner. He tried to stay as protector of them, but the King insisted Jaime be by his side, night and day.

He got little sleep from that time until…

One night, when he was allowed to return to his quarters to rest, he found a message on his bed. Breaking the plain seal, he saw it was from his father. Tywin Lannister was informing him that soldiers were headed to King’s Landing, to bolster the city defenses. In truth, it sounded odd to Jaime. He remembered his father resigning as Hand of the King and even heard him vow to never return so long as Aerys was king. Now, he was returning to fight for the same man? Something did not make sense.

The day they were alerted to the Lannister host outside the city, Jaime had put the pieces together. He had witnessed Pycelle encourage the king to open the gates, just as Varys argued against such a course of action. Aerys went with the Grand Maester, telling him to have the gates opened. Jaime followed him out of the throne room, imploring him to change his mind. 

“This is for the greater good, Ser Jaime. Sometimes, before we can usher in the new, the old must be put to rest,” he had said. “Dynasties rise and dynasties fall. It is something all great men recognize, your father most of all.”

In that one horrifying moment, Jaime knew what was to happen. But he was a Kingsguard. He stood by as he was sworn to and protected the king. The king who ranted and raved. The king who ordered Jaime to bring him the head of Tywin Lannister. The King who ordered his pyromancers to burn the city. 

In the end, Jaime was never sure which order it was that led him to unsheathe his sword and kill Aerys. But in the end, it did not matter. Aerys lay dead at the steps of the Iron Throne and Jaime sat upon it, in shock himself. 

Tywin Lannister found him there, drenched in blood. It was the angriest he had ever seen his father. Tywin threw him from the throne, admonishing him that he could be killed if anyone else saw him there. 

“For sitting on a throne? I killed the king, Father. I am an oathbreaker...a kingslayer,” Jaime said.

“You were protecting the people of the city from a madman who would burn them all. I see only an honor in that. You have fulfilled your oath to protect the innocent,” Tywin said. “Go to your quarters and get some rest In the morning, this will all look different.” But there was no tone of concern or caring when he said that. It was more an order, from a general to his foot soldier. 

But Tywin had been right. In the morning, it was all different. For, in the small hours of the night, the Lannister host had been unleashed in Red Keep. Few rooms were left unmolested. Jaime was shocked by the state of the place. Then, his panic rose. He ran to the Prince’s apartments, desperate to look for Princess Elia, for the children. But what he found was something he would never unsee again.

Now, he sat in his quarters, alone with a bottle of Dornish red he found. Dornish red, the color of the blood he saw from what remained of Elia Martell. There would be hells to pay for that, even though his father assured him the perpetrator would be caught. Not for one fucking second did Jaime believe that.

As he was going to pour himself another glass, a steward came to fetch him. “Your father has requested your presence in the main courtyard,” the man said.

“Why does he want me? It’s been plainly obvious that he can’t stand the sight of me right now,” Jaime complained.

“All he said was for you to come.” And that was it. So, Jaime got up and followed.

As he entered the courtyard, he saw the train approaching, riders carrying the banners of House Lannister and his mood perked up. It seemed as though Father had sent for Cersei and Tyrion, now that the city was secured. Of course, he knew there were armies surrounding it, but if they were under the command of the men Jaime thought they would be, he had no concern that harm had come to his brother and sister.

And he was delighted to see them. Cersei, he knew, had missed being at his side. He would receive ravens regularly telling him she missed her twin, her other half. He did too. 

But it was Tyrion he couldn’t wait to see. He hadn’t seen his little brother since he’d been named to the Kingsguard. Jaime always worried about him. He knew neither their father nor sister held much love for the boy. Any affection he got, it came from the aunts and uncles around him at the Rock. 

The wheelhouse came to a stop and the door opened. Tywin stepped forward and extended his hand inside. Reaching for him was Cersei, naturally, resplendent in a dress of emerald and gold. Her feet touched the ground and she curtsied to Tywin, then turned to Jaime.

“Dearest brother, how I have missed you,” she whispered into his ear. “It has been far too long.”

Jaime smiled in agreement, but his expression grew sad as he saw the wheelhouse led away, no one else emerging. “Where is Tyrion? I thought if Father deemed it safe for you to come, he would accompany you.”

The words were no sooner out of his mouth than the scowl appeared on his sister’s face. “You actually wanted to see the little monster?” she asked in a cruel tone she used when speaking of their brother.

“Tyrion is still too young for such a long journey,” Tywin said. “Besides, we have many things to discuss. I’ve had the evening meal laid out in the Tower of the Hand.” He turned and headed in that direction without another word. 

Cersei wasn’t immediate to follow. “I will forgive you your concern for Tyrion. Rest assured, Uncle Gerion is watching over the little toad. They are as thick as thieves.” Jaime smiled at that. He knew Gerion was his favorite uncle for a reason.

But his reaction made Cersei more annoyed. “Come, Father is waiting for us. As he said, we have much to discuss.” She sauntered on ahead a few steps. She looked from side to side, but no one else but they were there. “And then later, we can have our own private reunion.” She said that then continued on her way.

The same feelings Jaime had when he heard Pycelle’s words overcame him again. He didn’t know why, but he was now in fear of his sister’s actions more than his father’s.


	12. A Child's Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tywin lays his plans for the future of the Lannisters out to Cersei and Jaime, but she reveals what he really had in mind. Ned and Lyanna revel in the newest Stark and the one to come and put the ills of the past to rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could not not have Tywin Lannister with a point of view. Charles Dance was just magnetic as the Lannister patriarch and I needed to write words for him to say.

As Jaime and Cersei walked into the dining room, Tywin took an appraisal of his two older children. He could still remember the day they were born, red-cheeked, tufts of hair golden as the sun, eyes like four crystal clear emeralds. He and Joanna cried with joy at their birth, and he began that day making plans. 

His wife had chided him. “Tywin, they are not yet a day old. There is plenty of time to think about their futures.”

“The future Lord of Casterly Rock,” Tywin proclaimed, his eyes beaming back to his wife. “And for you, my little girl? What future can we think up for you? A queen, perhaps?”

Joanna had still been abed, holding their son, but with Tywin sitting next to her, leaning on his pillows, she gave him a light shove. “Really, my love! I want to enjoy their childhoods. Yes, they may one day be a lord and a queen, but let them be children first!”

He agreed with the sentiment at the time, but as soon as they were old enough to walk and even babble, he began to plan in full. And he was encouraged about the direction of his plans by his friend the king, first.

Aerys had sent a gift of each child’s weight in gold, a lavish gift to anyone, but Tywin took it as a sign. The king was giving him gold, and wouldn’t it be appropriate for Tywin to return the gift in some way, in the future? He told his wife of his idea, but still, she waved it off. “You know the Targaryens, they rarely marry outside their own house, let alone their own children. If you must marry our children for politics, better it be among the other houses. I have heard Lady Lyarra Stark has just had a daughter and there is a son not much older. But please, Tywin, wait. Let them choose whom they wish to wed. They’ll be happier for it.”

So, he, at last, put those ideas aside...until his wife died, until his proposal was rejected. But that was when he had gone back to his wife’s remark. She had most likely mentioned it in jest, but there was a brilliance to it. So he went about planning out his children’s future, the future of Westeros and the Seven Kingdoms. He had an advantage, with Aerys’ madness growing by the day. He knew many of the Lords Paramount were growing more and more leery of him, so, after consulting with Jon Arryn, he played it.

Rickard Stark was easier than he expected. Having a maester from the south got him the in with the Lord of Winterfell. He had a preliminary agreement for both Jaime and Cersei and was working on the Hoster Tully and the young Lord of the Stormlands. 

Then, little by little, it got away from him. But even defeat for his alliances worked well in the end. Now, he was in a better position than he had ever planned. He had managed to place a Baratheon king on the Iron Throne and had a daughter he had planned on being crowned on the day she was born with him, to place at the side of that new ruler. 

Jaime and Cersei sat on either side of him, across from each other. They were truly a mirror of each other, a perfect reflection. Not just of themselves, but of himself, of Joanna. 

The servant poured a glass for each of the finest Arbor gold to be found in the cellar. He stood as he began his toast. “I feel it appropriate to that we three are here together, at this time. It is something I have long dreamed of and am beyond pleased that it has come at last,” he said.

“But not all of us are here,” Jaime muttered as he threw a piece of cheese in his mouth. “We are a family of four, Father, no matter how much you chose to forget it.”

Tywin knew full well who he was speaking of, but ignored it by agreeing in a way. “Yes, I do wish your dear mother was here to see this crowning glory.”

“‘Crowning glory’. How fitting. But she was murdered by that monster,” Cersei retorted, making Tywin actually wince. He had little love for his youngest, a scourge he believed the gods had sent to him for some reason, but even he was not so heartless to see the act of Tyrion’s birth as a vicious crime committed against his beloved wife. 

He didn’t want to get into this argument with his only daughter again, so he pushed on. “I know questions have been asked over the past year as to why I have taken no side in this war. I knew it was to be a destructive one and I had no wish for it to be visited upon the Westerlands, especially the Rock. It is rash men who go to war. Those with patience will be rewarded for it, as I have. No son of the West died for madness or rashness.” 

“You are a man of foresight, Father,” Jaime remarked snidely.

He would take the compliment, even if it were not there. “Now, we stand at the precipice of something I have long been planning.”

“You’re grand alliance of marriages, Father?” Cersei asked. The question caught him off-guard, even more as she continued. “Jon Arryn told Prince Rhaegar about it. How you planned on creating an interwoven family of the North, West, Storm and Riverlands, one that, should it be needed, could stand against the Targaryens.”

Tywin wasn’t surprised by the Lord of the Vale’s attack of a conscience. It was always a risk to be taken, telling a man of such deft politics his plans. Nor was he surprised when Jaime perked up from his goblet. “What marriage alliance?”

Cersei got the first word in. “Father was angry that Aerys rejected the suit he presented for my marriage to the Crown Prince. In his anger, he began planning out who we should marry and how it could work to overthrow the Targaryen dynasty. I was going to marry dour Ned Stark, you his sister Lyanna,” she said in that sweet tone that he knew was an act. “Brandon Stark was to marry Catelyn Tully, and Lysa Tully, Robert Baratheon.” Now she turned and looked him directly in the eyes. “That is how you planned it, correct?”

Tywin retook his seat and matched her glare. “Yes, my daughter. That was how it was planned.”

“But it didn’t go on as such,” Cersei stated. “Aerys named you to the Kingsguard, so you were unable to marry the little wolf bitch.”

Jaime looked like he was thinking about it. “Pity. She has spirit,” he remarked before taking another sip.

“Without you, Ned got Robert into your place, outmaneuvering father for her hand. And then Brandon Stark had to go off to the capital and demand of Aerys the presence of his son, who he believed had kidnapped poor, innocent Lyanna. He died because of that stupidity, leaving Ned to marry the frigid fish. A lucky break for me, at least,” his daughter went on to explain. “Hoster wanted his other daughter to marry ancient Jon Arryn, leaving no one for me. Father’s master plan, and he would have ended up with nothing to show for it.”

“But the Gods have blessed us, after a fashion. Cersei, you once told me a mummer said you will be queen. Well, I have been speaking at length with King Robert, and he has at last agreed,” Tywin announced. 

Any pleasantness dropped from her face. “The Gods, Father? When have you credited them with anything?” She reached for her goblet, taking a long swig. “And why do you think I would marry that whoremongerer?” She looked from Jaime back to Tywin. “I know his reputation. He already got one bastard in the Vale and I think it unlikely he will stop there. And I will not stand for it.” The cup came down with a crash.

He knew this wouldn’t be easy but it was no matter. In a match of wills with his daughter, he would always win. “You will marry him, and you will give him heirs. The new dynasty to sit upon the Iron Throne will have some blood of Old Valyria, but it will be merged with the lion,” he pronounced. 

“I WILL NOT!” she yelled as she pushed out of the chair. Her voice was so loud, it made Jaime jump. “I was told I would be queen, but Robert Baratheon is NO KING! He is a usurper and when the armies outside take this city, his head will be upon a spike.”

“Those armies have been outside the city walls for near a moon turn now. If they were to take this city, they would have done so once all their forces were marshaled. But Rhaegar Targaryen it no warrior, too caught up in fantasy and prophecy.” Tywin kept his voice level to contrast the fire she was spitting out. “Robert claimed the throne by right of conquest, much like the Conqueror himself.”

“But Aegon actually defeated the armies of the other kingdoms,” Jaime reminded him. “He destroyed House Gardner and nearly our own noble house. He defeated House Hoare and destroyed Harrenhal for all time. And when he turned his attention, and that of his dragons, to the North, House Stark bent the knee.” He waved his hand as if capping his argument. 

Tywin narrowed his eyes at his firstborn son. He had never tried to be a learned man, always wanting to be out, on horseback, in the training yard. He was such a poor reader, the Lord of Casterly Rock was surprised his son knew that much. “He didn’t defeat Dorne. They joined the realm, completed the Seven Kingdoms, with a marriage.”

“And this is how you plan to create your empire, Father? Sell your only daughter?” Cersei questioned, her voice calm once more.

“You were the one to tell me you were seen to be a queen. I have ensured that will happen.”

His golden-haired daughter straightened her spine, her defiance continuing. “Then I don’t want it anymore. I asked the witch if I was going to marry the prince. Crown Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, the Silver Prince. He should be sitting on that throne now. He should be on his knees thanking you, thanking both of you for ending his father’s tyranny. But he is not here.” She flung her arm outward, ironically in the direction of the Dragon’s Gate, where he knew the Targaryens and Starks were camped. “He’s out there, amongst the houses that rebelled against his house. He sits with Jon Arryn and Ned Stark and Stannis Baratheon. Hells, even Olenna Tyrell and Oberyn Martell have taken his side! And do you know who sits beside him, Father? Who sits to his right, the place of honor, his chosen queen?”

He knew that as well. “Lyanna of House Stark,” was all he said.

“Lyanna of House Stark,” Cersei repeated, confirming his words. “The Whore of Winterfell, who came down from the North and somehow charmed Rhaegar into setting his wife aside for her.”

“Harrenhal,” Jaime piped in with. Tywin and Cersei both cocked their heads at him. What in the blazes was his son talking about? He must have understood the looks. “I once heard of a tale of a prince seeking out his father’s would-be assassin, a mystery knight who defeated three others in the joust and requested that they only teach their squires about honor. The prince found the person, a woman in point of fact. And from that encounter, a love grew.” With that, he merely shrugged his shoulder. “Or so the tale goes.”

A parchment was thrown on the table now. “They want to entreat with you, Father. With you, and the usurper and any other fool who has seen fit to follow you.” Cersei laughed, laughed long, as she stepped back from him. “My place will never be at his side. So what it my place then?”

“You place is where I say it is,” Tywin told her harshly. “That is the place of any child, wherever their parent wants them. And I want you beside Robert Baratheon, as his wife, when we meet with them.”

His only answer was the slamming of a door.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Lord Eddard Stark, Warden of the North, father of Robb Stark, the heir of Winterfell. 

He savored those words as they played in his head, over and over again. His joy was boundless, the thought of his son. He wanted to leave immediately, make for Riverrun and see the babe and his wife.

But there was still too much at stake for him to leave now, while the fate of the realm was still in the balance. Every day that passed, he could not believe the sheer stubbornness of Robert Baratheon. 

Ned had reread the letter five, six times and still could not believe it. Then he remembered hearing Lyanna’s face brighten like the sun at that thought of her son and Robb, growing up together. 

His thoughts of her must have drawn his little sister to his tent. He was inside, trying to compose his reply when the flap was pulled back and she stepped in. “I have come to check in on the new father,” she said with a wide smile. “How is he doing?”

“I truly cannot put into words what I am feeling,” he replied. HIs answer to her was effusive, so unlike his usual demeanor. 

“Lord Robb Stark,” she enunciated. “A good, strong name.”

Now a blush rose on his cheeks. “Rhaegar is truly not upset? I could write to Catelyn, tell her of what has happened, our concerns--”

“Rhaegar is just pleased that there is some measure of happiness in these bleak times. And he was honest about what he said. There was a measure of affection for Robert to be had by him before...everything happened,” she tried to reassure him. “And on the matter of names, your news has inspired he and I to decided on one for our son.”

He smiled, but he knew it hadn’t reached his eyes. “And what have you selected? Aegon, perhaps, after his brother?” he asked, the image of a small body enshrouded in red coming to his mind.

Ned regretted the words instantly. Lyanna’s glow dimmed, and she dipped her head to prevent him from seeing the tear. Once she had recovered, she waved him off. “It is fine. A noble thought, brother, and what I was expecting. But he has chosen differently.” She placed her hand on her belly. “No, we have decided that he shall be named for a king, two in fact. The future ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, Jaehaerys, Third of his Name.” She smiled once more, a conspiratorial one she shared more with Benjen that he. “But I believe his nickname will be the one remembered. Jon, after the great King in the North.”

He thought about it and signaled his approval. “And I know he will be a great king,” he said.

But she didn’t appear to be so sure. “If he wants to be king, at least. If he is ever able to enter the capital and claim the title. A prospect, I fear, that grows dimmer by the day, and a fate I am not certain I want for him anyway.”

“Lya?” Now Ned was concerned. “What are you speaking about?”

She made a quick shake of her head. “It’s nothing, dear brother. Just...the concerns of a mother for her unborn babe.”

She laid her head on his shoulder. It was a gesture she rarely did, even as children. Lyanna had been the fearless one, of both man and beast. But now, she did look frightened. It was natural, he supposed.

Her gesture formed a lump in his throat. On the rare times she was afraid, Father would be the one to soothe her. Now, that thought led to another, about the tragedy of what had happened to him, to Brandon, and how it could have engulfed their family further. And he only had to see Rhaegar to know what it was like.

“I am sorry,” he said.

She lifted her head, stared into his eyes. “What for, big brother?”

“For assuming the worst. For thinking of the awful things that were happening to you, and rushing to judge the prince. Those similar actions led Brandon to foolishly face Aerys. I cannot fathom what could have happened if we had gone any further, if there had been a battle at the Trident.” Everything was pouring out of him now, thoughts and emotions that he had kept to himself for the last year.

“But they didn’t,” she reminded him. “I got to the Riverlands, got you to come see and hear what really happened. And you were smart enough to listen. I too fear how things could go sideways, how you could have battled Rhaegar, or Ser Arthur and not survived.

The mention of the Kingsguard brought his sightline to the tent where the four brothers were staying. “If I fought Ser Arthur, I do not think I would have survived.” He took her hands in his, holding them tightly. “I am so sorry I ever mentioned Robert Baratheon to Father. I thought him a different man. But you were right all along.”

“I am not blind to the ways of men. I have seen it enough these past few years,” she said. For a moment, he didn’t follow what she was saying. But then he remembered the whispers about their brother. She nodded, acknowledging what he was thinking. “I loved Brandon, but he was not dissimilar, sadly.” She took their intertwined fingers and kissed them. “If things had gone differently, I would have forgiven you.”

“It was never going to happen,” Ned told her, “because you would only have married him if you were forced to with all the swords of the North at your back.”

She laughed heartily at that. “So true. You know me too well.”

It was then that Ned noticed Howland Reed approach. He had seen little of the crannogman since Lyanna had arrived at King’s Landing, but he was glad the lord was here now. 

Lyanna spoke first. “And where have you been keeping yourself, Lord Reed? I had hoped you’d come visit me sooner!” she chided him.

“I feel you have been rather busy, too busy to see the lord of so lowly a noble house,” Howland replied. 

“Nonsense! It is because of you that I am even here now as I am, a happily married woman with a child to come,” Lyanna retorted.

Howland offered her a sad smile. “But at the cost it came to?” Lyanna looked remorseful at the reminder and her hand went to her belly protectively.

“You were my father’s man being cruelly beaten. I was honor-bound to defend you,” she said.

Howland did not look pleased by her argument but chose not to continue it. “I guess I am the vessel that brought ice and fire together. A footnote in the maesters’ histories, I am sure.”

Lya rolled her eyes, looking to refute his modesty when Ser Arthur Dayne approached them. “You Grace, Lord Stark. We have just received a messenger from the city. He brings Robert’s reply to the missive sent with Cersei,” the Dornishman explained.

“Tywin’s response, you mean?” Lyanna remarked.

Ned just stood. “Lord Reed, I want to apologize. I know my sister would like to catch up with you, but I feel we are going to be needed with the Prince. If you will excuse us,” he said.

Howland acknowledged him. “Of course, my lord.”

Lyanna turned to leave as well, but stopped and faced Reed once more. She went to him and engulfed him in a hug. “We shall talk soon, my lord. I know Rhaegar wishes to extend his gratitude to you as well.”

“You honor me, my princess.” And then he was gone.

Ned was about to follow Arthur and Lyanna when he saw Howland Reed spin and watch them once more. He saw a look in the man’s eyes that unsettled him. Then he remembered Lyanna mentioning Reed telling her he had come to Harrenhal originally to for a song of ice and fire. He still wasn’t sure of the exact meaning, but he was sure of one thing.

Howland Reed knew much more than he was leading anyone to believe. And from the look Ned saw, the future could be in peril.


	13. The Foundations of Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Smuggler and a Queen. A Knight and a Prince.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I am still here! I am sorry about my absence, but between writer's block, losing my beta, temperatures warming up, a number of my own favorite stories being updated, discovering new stories and a little movie that was released last week, my writing has fallen by the wayside. And I don't see it getting any better, unfortunately. My thinking is, however, that I am going to try concentrating on one story for a bit. I'm actually coming close to to the end, so for the time being, "From There to Here" will most likely be my prime concern. If you read my story "Of Kings and Bastards", I will publish new chapters tomorrow, and work on them here and, well, there.
> 
> Also, I know there is an unlikely pairing here, but I couldn't write a GoT fanfiction and NOT include a kindly smuggler. Since there was no siege at Storm's End, I may have shoehorned him in a bit. Sorry/not sorry. I just love the guy too much. And he will get a knighthood, just from a different lord! 
> 
> Again, I am soooo sorry for the delay. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

It had been strange times, these last few moons, Davos Seaworth had realized. Never in ten lifetimes had he thought to find himself in the middle of this mess of a war in the way it happened. And yet, he had landed smack dab there, with very little effort. He was not a man to seek to get involved in the affair of others, especially when they were at war. He was just happy to get in, get out and not be discovered.

It had worked for him, in a fashion. Well, the getting in part mainly. For once, though, he had gotten to Dragonstone with the most benevolent of intentions. He had planned to do his usual run, Braavos to King’s Landing, but word had reached him that the city was in a panic. Seems the Mad King had continued to earn his reputation and continued killing his people, this time a High Lord and his son. Davos had heard from his contact that banners had been called and a full-on revolt had erupted. He was just happy his wife and young son were safe at Duskendale. He hadn’t seen her in four moons and feared the war would sweep into the little village they had taken up residence in after they had married and he’d made enough coin to get them out of Flea Bottom.

But, with King Aerys losing whatever grip on sanity he still had, Davos did not want to try his luck at getting his goods ashore anywhere near the capital. Then the weather had turned bad near Dragonstone. He figured it was a decent place to lay low for a short time. It wasn’t inhabited year-round, and whatever folks lived there, well, if he had no quarrel with them, they usually had no quarrel with him.

So it was there he dropped anchor in one of the deep water ports and sat to decide the next move. Until one night when he heard the watch yelling about soldiers spotted on the cliffs and making their way in the direction of his ship.

He grumbled later as to how difficult it was to make ready a ship, especially one in port. But before they could make an escape, a ship bearing the sails of House Targaryen cut off their way to safety,

Davos was no fighter, and neither were his men. He communicated that to the other ship, hoping to be able to be given the chance to talk his way out of the situation. It wasn’t until he was ordered off his ship and marched up to the keep itself that he realized the trouble he was in.

He took a moment to pause in his recollection when he heard a distinct, feminine voice call for him. He walked towards the woman, regal with hair that looked to be thin silver and smiled. “Yes, your Grace?” he asked.

Rhaella Targaryen, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, gave him a smile. “If I may ask, Captain, when do you think we will be able to make port?” 

He knew his esteemed passenger was unwell and the sea surely was not helping matters. “Well, the further into Blackwater Bay we can get without being spotted, the better a position I will be in to see you safely off,” he said as he bowed. “My hope is we can make Duskendale, at least.”

The brightness in her eyes dimmed momentarily and it was then he remembered hearing of King Aerys’ capture and rescue from the town during the Defiance. But she said nothing of it, only commenting, “Well, it would give me a chance to meet this lovely wife you talk so much of.”

He chuckled at the thought. His Marya was the daughter of a carpenter, a humble station and the thought of she entertaining the queen of the realm may have her chase him back to the sea, her mortification so great. “I do not think that would be wise of me to do so. Marya...well, as honored as she would be, I am sure, I don’t think she’ll take too kindly to the idea of me bringing you home. Especially in your, er, condition.”

The queen placed her hand on her stomach, a tear running down her cheek. “I pray that my son is safe and can shelter us until...the king has been seen to. Then my child can grow up in safety.”

Davos looked at the deck, shame coming to him. It had only been from her master-at-arms, Ser Willem Darry that he knew how she had come to be pregnant. It still amazed him how someone who was both her brother and husband could do such things to this kind woman. “I can’t say why, but I do believe your wish shall be granted,” he told her. Then he looked around. “And where is the young prince this fine morning?”

“He has not had any good night’s since we left King’s Landing. I had hoped that bringing him with me would go a ways to bringing back the mischievous boy he was but I think it will take more than a mother’s love. I did my best to shield him from the worst of his father’s actions,” Rhaella said. “If Rhaegar is alive and well, he can help soothe Viserys, I pray.”

Davos noticed his first mate signaling him from the bridge. “If you will excuse me, Your Grace, but I seem to be needed to do my job.”

Her lip quirked up, the hint of a smirk on her face. “As the best smuggler in the Seven Kingdoms, Captain Davos?”

He laughed along with her. “If I pull this off and we survive, I think I shall have earned the title, don’t you think, my lady?” Then he tipped his head and left her at the railing. The report he received heartened him enough that he was soon able to return to tell her, “It seems we are closer to the coast than I first thought,” he informed her. “In fact, we may be at Duskendale by tomorrow night.”

He could easily see the relief on her face. “Thank the Seven,” she said, her eyes pointed skyward. 

“This has me thinking that when we reach there, I’ll have the lay of the land surveyed before we disembark, for your safety, of course,” he suggested. She nodded in agreement.

“I think I can help with that. Lord Rykker owes his seat to my husband and I believe he has taken the loyalist side. If it will help, you can deliver a message to him from me, stating what you have already done for me. He could aid us in reaching the Targaryen forces,” Rhaella suggested.

“I think that would work out quite nicely. However, if you can forgive me, I think it best I see to Marya before appearing before Lord Rykker,” Davos amended, which she quickly saw the rightness of.

As predicted, they reached the harbor at Duskendale before sunset the following day. Like was agreed, Davos left the royal party on the ship and headed home. When he opened the door to the kitchen, it was Marya’s back to him. She must have heard him because before he could greet her, she turned around, showing him her full profile.

Her belly was obviously swollen with child.

“The great Captain Seaworth returned at last,” she announced to no one in particular.

His jaw dropped at the sight, though he knew he should not be surprised as he remembered his last night home. “My lady…” was all he managed to get out.

“And with what whore have you been spending time with?” He supposed any wife would think such a thing especially since he had taken longer than usual to return from the sea. He could also see the fire in her eyes, rather more like a dragon than his passenger had been.

“Marya, I know that must be what you are thinking…” he began, trying to stave off the argument. Now he was regretting leaving the queen on his ship, even though it would have been near impossible to move such exotic-looking of a woman through the streets of any city. “While we were at sea, the traveling looked rough so we docked for safety. Only, it was not as such when I saw the Targaryen sails cut us off.”

“The Targaryen sails?” she asked, clearly not believing him.

“Dragonstone,” he clarified. “I was ordered to the keep there and was confronted by the queen herself, as a matter of fact.”

“Do you really think I believe this horseshit, Davos?” Her tone gave him his answer.

Thinking quickly, he said instead, “Where is Dale? I think it best if you both come with me. And the lad should get used to the sea, as I hope he will travel with me.” He held up his hands, a plea for leeway.

Their young son had risen from a nap and after being welcomed back by him with open arms and a smile, the little family made their way to the docks. But Marya’s silence the whole way there did not bode well for him, if he were lying. That was a thought he put out of his mind when they finally walked up the gangplank.

Davos’ crew bowed and greeted their captain’s wife, as normal while he went looking for Ser Willem and the Queen. When he explained the situation, all she did was give him a knowing look. She then headed topside after he lightly protested it would have been better if Marya came to her. “I am the Lady of Dragonstone in my son’s absence, you should have been brought to me. But here, she is the lady to answer to, so I should come before her,” Rhaella reasoned.

Dale was running about with some of the cabin boys when they returned, with Marya staring out towards the mouth of the bay. He could tell she had caught sight of him making his way to her, but she ignored him until she saw the woman behind him. His wife’s face went more white than the Queen’s hair and he feared she would faint right there. But then she seemed to recover, falling into a curtsey, odd with the weight she was carrying.

“My wife, may I present to you, Rhaella, daughter of Jaehaerys, Second of his Name, wife of Aerys, Second of his Name, mother of Rhaegar, Prince of Dragonstone,” he introduced. He made sure not to give his wife any tells to communicate he had not been lying. Then he turned to the Queen. “Your Grace, may I present Marya Seaworth, my beloved wife, and mother to my son, and another child on the way it seems.”

His wife just stood there, dumbstruck, for a few minutes. It was the Queen who eventually broke the ice. “Captain Seaworth has spoken of you with barely a breath,” she said as she extended her hand in friendship. “It is an honor to meet you.”   
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
The swords clashed, but Arthur saw Rhaegar’s mind was elsewhere. “Careful, Your Grace. A wandering mind can be a deadly thing in a fight,” he told his friend.

But Rhaegar’s next move showed that his focus was back where it should be. “Quite right, my friend. Perhaps this wasn’t the best activity to be doing when so many troubles ail me.”

The Sword of the Morning knew exactly what the prince meant. “I know of the many burdens your shoulder, but you must remain strong. So many people are counting on you.”

That was truly an understatement, the knight realized. Arthur could think of many things that were on Rhaegar’s mind at the moment and any of them would crush most men. There was a siege that had been ongoing outside the walls of the capital. There was the brutal murder of a mother and her children that had only wished for safety back in her homeland. There were a parent and sibling that had not been heard from in many moons. There was a young wife, pregnant, that had truly become the very heartbeat of the prince. 

But Rhaegar Targaryen had a strength about him, a calmness of spirit that would see him through all these trials. He also had friends and family to support him if he should collapse from his burdens. Most importantly, he had the love of his people.

“I just wish it could have begun so differently,” Arthur’s friend said. “If I had been at the Red Keep when Brandon got there, been able to confront him, assuage his worries about his sister...instead, he confronted a monster that killed him and his father.”

“Do you believe that Lyanna finds fault with you about the fate of her father and Lord Rickard?”

“No,” Rhaegar replied with an ironic chuckle. “I think she blames herself for what happened to them, what has happened to the Seven Kingdoms.”

Arthur thought about that. He was not surprised by the belief. He remembered the Princess’ conversation when they were met by Lady Tyrell before reaching the Riverlands. 

“We were both wrong in the way we went about all of it,” his friend admitted. “And I should have seen to Elia’s safe passage to Dorne. But the timing, it was too perfect. In our haste to be together, the blood of Westeros ran.”

Now he was falling back into his melancholia, Arthur could see. It was an all too common state for him to be in, but it had lessened over the time that they had been encamped outside King’s Landing. The Kingsguard attributed that all to Lyanna. It had seemed that, at last, Rhaegar had found true happiness.

They were about to continue with their sparring when Lord Eddard Stark approached them. “Your Grace, a raven just arrived.”

Now the prince’s focus coalesced. “From King’s Landing?” he asked.

Ned shook his head but didn’t appear that upset about where it came from. “No, actually, from the Dun Fort.”

“House Rykker?” Arthur asked, just as confused as Rhaegar seemed.

As Ned nodded, Rhaegar was handed the scroll, his eyes running along each line of the script. Then a smile broke on his face. “Thank the Seven!” he cried. Then he turned to Arthur. “It’s from Mother She has made her way to Duskendale and has been sheltered by Ser Jaremy Rykker!”

The Sword of the Morning allowed his mouth to fall open. He thought he had misheard the prince. “Queen Rhaella is at Duskendale? How?”

“Mother and Viserys, in fact. She writes that the King allowed her to take my brother to Dragonstone and while they were there, they were aided by a captain to try and return to the mainland. He got them into port there and House Rykker has offered their protection as well as forces to accompany them here!”

Arthur Dayne was happy with the news but also happy for his friend. He had had so little good news lately and his mother’s state and whereabouts had become another worry on his mind. But the queen, it seemed, had been as clever as he knew her to be.

“They set out a few days ago, so they should be here soon,” Rhaegar had concluded, embracing both Arthur and Ned.

While the friends shared the joy, Ned still seemed understated. “And does the queen know of Aerys, Elia and the children and my sister?”

His good-brother went back and reread the scroll. “There is nothing said that indicates she knows of the deaths, but I can assure you, Lord Stark, she has known about Lyanna for a while. I was never able to speak openly, of course, but I spoke enough that my mother understood what was going to happen. She even included a message about awaiting an introduction to her new good-daughter.” He put his hand on Ned’s shoulder. “Have no fear of my mother, Lord Stark. I suspect they will get on better than we would ever expect.”

Arthur laughed at that. “If I know the Queen and the Princess, they may well be more trouble than we could ever handle.” Ned relaxed before leaving them.

“I cannot tell you, my friend, how unexpected this news is! When I last saw Mother, she was certain Aerys would not allow her or Viserys to leave the capital,” the prince explained. “What she said of my brother, what I saw in the little boy before I left King’s Landing and headed north…”

“What are you saying?” Arthur asked.

Rhaegar let out a breath. “When I last saw him, he was emotionless, stiff. You remember when I was near his age. I did not yet have to contemplate what was to be expected of me, I was allowed to be a boy. But the Viserys I saw was treading far too close to our father for my liking. He used a crude term to inquire where I was, and Mother said he had been spending more time with the king, watching him…” He could not continue, leading Arthur to know what he meant.

“I share your concerns for your brother, my prince, but perhaps there has not been too much damage to repair. Your father is dead and he now has a loving mother and brother to guide him. Aerys Targaryen can no longer be an influence on the boy,” Arthur replied as he gripped Rhaegar’s shoulder. 

“I pray you are right, my friend.”

It was a short time later when Lord Stannis Baratheon approached the group that now included Oswell, Barristan and the Lord Commander. “Your Grace,” he said with his mouth fixed in a straight line. He didn’t say anything else, just handed another scroll over.

This time, there was no joy in Rhaegar’s expression. “Lord Tywin has been given our message, it seems.” He turned to look at the Sword of the Morning. “Ser Arthur, where is my wife?” he asked.

Arthur did not even need to be asked. “I will go and have her brought to you.” Then he set out to find the princess, who was standing by a fire next to her brother and conversing with another lord, the one from the Neck. “You Grace, Lord Stark. We have just received a messenger from the city. He brings Robert’s reply to the missive sent with Cersei,” he explained.

“Tywin’s response, you mean?” Lyanna remarked.

Both excused themselves from the conversation with Lord Reed and made their way to the Prince’s tent. 

Lyanna got right to the point. “So the lion has spoken?” she asked, facetiousness dripping with every word.

“Aye, he has,” Barristan answered. 

“He wishes for a parlay,” Rhaegar said.

All inside knew what that meant, but it was Stannis who said it out loud. “He means to marry Cersei to my brother. And the fool will probably go along with it and happily.”

“I say let him,” Lyanna remarked. Arthur knew the princess was thinking along the line of ‘better Cersei than her’.

“I think we have to accept,” Jon Arryn said as he read over the scroll. “But we must be cautious. I do not trust Tywin, especially not after…” He bowed his head silently. “With your permission, your grace, I would like to enter the city and negotiate terms for the parlay, location, when it should be held, things like that.”

Rhaegar nodded. “Tomorrow morn, request an audience with him and, if possible, Robert. I would like to have it after my mother and brother arrive for I think it proper that the Queen be able to confront Lannister and Baratheon with us.”

As Jon nodded, Arthur caught Lyanna’s expression. As if knowing just what she was about to say, he cut in. “Your Grace, I think it best that we of your Kingsguard begin to make plans for the safety of you and the Princess when this takes place.”

Gerold smirked but agreed. “I would suggest we hold it in a place where none would dare spill blood,” Lord Commander Hightower said. 

“Then, sers, I will leave you to that.” That was all the prince said to dismiss them all. Lyanna stayed behind, of course, but as Arthur was about to step outside, Rhaegar stopped him, “Ser Arthur, I thank you for your consideration on behalf of myself and my wife,”

Both Arthur and Lyanna caught the subtle reference he was making. “That is my duty, your grace. And I will ensure that it is done.” He didn’t allow another word to be said as he left.

He just prayed he would be able to fulfill his promise.


	14. The Dragons Reunited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mother and son are finally reunited, but the Queen learns the cost. Rhaegar repays a debt and begins to break the wheel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Fourth, my fellow Americans! I decided to celebrate the day with a little updating, but be warned, it'll be a while before this story is continued, though I do have three more chapters in reserve. I am still on a break from writing "Fires", and that's likely to continue for the time being.
> 
> I have also decided to not post on ff.net. The setup of interacting with my readers is better, I feel, as I can respond to all comments, not just those of registered users. So, enjoy the exclusivity. And please, continue to comments!

Many people had the perception of Rhaella Targaryen as being mild-mannered, quiet and soft. Few thought any sort of dragon lurked under her skin. But they were wrong. For as much as she often cowered at her husband’s abuse, behind closed doors, she remained strong for her sons.

Her oldest son saw that and, as his father sank into madness more, depended on it. Rhaella often indulged him, but she was always there for him, in whatever he decided to do. Even when what he wanted was to leave his wife and follow some prophetic quest he was sure he was destined to. Rhaella had done all she could to bring Elia and her children when Aerys finally let her and Viserys leave, but the king knew he had a person of great value in the Red Keep and would not allow it to slip away. Elia accepted the King’s decision with grace, leaving Rhaella to pray to the Seven that the girl was alright.

For her younger son, Rhaella had much more to be worried about. With Rhaegar away so much since the Tourney at Harrenhal, the boy had been under his father’s care more than was better for him. And, every time Viserys returned to her, she saw more and more of the curious, excitable boy slip away.

Once they had departed for Dragonstone, however, that sweet child began to show himself again. But the child had become plagued with nightmares, which woke him every night. Rhaella would be at his side when she heard the screams, even when, at first, she was not wanted there. But the Queen persisted and Viserys eventually allowed her to comfort him. He was by her side when Captain Davos Seaworth was brought before her in the Throne Room at Dragonstone and was initially hostile, but that began to melt away as they sailed for the mainland. 

Now, on the road to King’s Landing, Queen Rhaella felt the need to show the people that the whispers about her weakness were just that. She insisted on riding into the Targaryen camp astride her horse, something she had not done since she was a girl. When they were able to talk, Rhaegar would tell her that the Northern girl he had fallen in love with did the same. He was shocked to hear of his mother’s riding style when she was younger. 

At her side was Captain Seaworth, who she explained as being her personal shield, even if that was not the case, Ser Willem Darry, ever present, and Ser Jaremy Rykker, who argued about his duty to see her safely to her son. Viserys tried to join them on horseback, but having left so early in the day, had nearly fallen off his horse in sleepiness. He, at last, agreed to stay in the wheelhouse and would be woken when they arrived.

Finally, over the last hill, she saw the vast expanse of the loyalist encampment, larger than even she believed it would be. When she was last in Westeros, most of these forces were poised to strike at her son and his host. Now, it was a grand alliance that stretched from the North to Dorne, save, of course, for the Westerlands and the Stormlands.

She sighed at that thought. As much as she was happy her son had found someone to love him wholly, at times she wished everything had been handled better. Then, perhaps, this war would never have occurred. 

They moved to the entrance of the encampment, where they were met by Lord Commander Gerold Hightower and Ser Arthur Dayne. When they saw her on her horse, both men dismounted from theirs and bent the knee. Finally meeting them, the Queen chuckled. “There is no need for such a show for me. I think you know better than that.”

Lord Commander Hightower stood up. “Your Grace, believe me when I say, no matter your feelings, I will always show you the respect you are due.” Not allowing her a retort, he then told her, “Rhaegar awaits your return in his pavilion.”

The two Kingsguard led her company through the camp, where most every soldier who saw them bowed to her. She accepted their gestures but paid little more attention to them, determined to reach her son. When they were close, Rhaegar must have heard them, because he was out of the tent and in front of her horse in a blur of silver, black and red. 

“See, my son. I too enjoy turning my nose up at propriety every now and then,” she said when he came to the side of her mount and helped her down. But he did not respond to her jape, only gathered her in his arms and embraced her. It was unlike any she had received from him since he was a boy. That alone told her something awful had happened. When he finally stepped back, she demanded quietly, “Tell me.”

He looked around them, focusing his attention surely on Captain Seaworth. “Not here, not yet. First, I think I owe a debt of thanks to the man who must have aided in your return.”

Rhaella beckoned the sailor over to them. “Captain Davos Seaworth, my son, Rhaegar of House Targaryen, Prince of Dragonstone, Heir to the Iron Throne,” Rhaella introduced.

Davos Seaworth bowed deeply and when he rose, did not meet her son’s eyes. “It was a right honor to ferry Her Grace and Prince Viserys back to their home,” was all the plain-spoken man could say.

Rhaegar held his gaze on the man a moment longer, before extending his hand. “I cannot begin to tell you how much I owe you. Please, stay and share a meal here. I wish to learn how it was you came to my mother’s attention.”

Davos looked to begin a protest, but Rhaella stopped him. “Captain Seaworth will be honored to join our company,” she said with a smile aimed at the smuggler.

Rhaegar then offered his thanks to Willem and Jaremy before taking his mother’s arm and leading her into his tent. There she was met by three other men, of whom she only recognized one, and a slip of a girl with child. “Mother, may I introduce Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell, Lord Stannis Baratheon and I believe you know Lord Jon Arryn.”

“My Queen, it has been too long,” Arryn said as he kissed her hand. 

“I am sure we will have much to talk about, Lord Arryn,” she said pleasant enough, though she did feel some anger that it was he that called the banners and declared rebellion.

Arryn merely bowed as Rhaegar moved her to the next man in the line. Stannis Baratheon was a surprise to her, him being with Rhaegar and not his brother. He looked as severe as ever, but there was a sadness there as well. “My Queen,” he said, his head bowed. 

“Lord Stannis, you and your brother?” It was all she could think to say.

“We have chosen to view these events in different ways, Your Grace.” Then he went back to his taciturn self.

Next in line was Lord Eddard Stark. She knew him to be a second son, not the one who was fated to inherit the title. But she remembered that day in the Red Keep. She had seen Lord Rickard come before her husband, beg for his heir’s life. And then. “My Lord, you have my deepest sympathies. Know that I tried to reason with the King, I truly did.”

“There is no reasoning with a madman,” he responded bluntly, then looked ashamed of his words. “I apologize, my Queen.”

“No, you were right.” But she moved on, to who must have been the lady who stole her son’s heart. Running an appraising eye over the bent and humbled figure of Lyanna Stark, no Lyanna Targaryen, she could see something in her must have attracted her son. The child was pretty, that was for certain, but she exuded something that Rhaella believed was a strength not typical in a woman. There must be some iron will there, if she was in her presence in the middle of a military camp, for she could not see her son willingly bringing a young, pregnant woman on his own accord.

When the Queen beckoned for the girl to rise, Rhaella saw a glint there, one that was all too familiar, as it was something she often saw in the mirror when no one else looked. “Your Grace, I am humbled to meet you at last,” she said, her voice meek for show.

Rhaella cut right to it. “I doubt, my lady, that even a dragon could scare a direwolf in any circumstance,” she said cryptically.

Lyanna’s reply pleased Rhaella more than she could say. “I pray for the day, your Grace when that can be proven to our eyes. But, for the time being, this wolf chooses to take caution at the chance of fire and blood.”

That made the Queen smile. “In the winter, fires will be needed, though I pray to the Old Gods and New no more blood need be shed.” Then she took Lyanna’s hands in her own. “My dear, I have waited for so long to meet you. I am pleased fate has finally allowed it.”

But the girl’s eyes watered a bit. She looked to Rhaegar before saying, “My queen, I wish the fates had played out...so differently.”

A pit now formed in her stomach. It was then that she realized her son had been solemn since she had arrived. “What has happened?” she asked, looking around at the gathering.

Before an answer could be given, the tent flap opened and Viserys walked in. Rhaegar’s stance went more rigid than was normal for his brother, but then she remembered how her son had been before they left for Dragonstone. Times, however, had changed. Being away from his father had been like a balm on the boy. The harshness he was beginning to exhibit was smoothing over. Yet this was still a test, to see how her boys interacted with each other after the chasm that had opened up between them.

Viserys stepped closer to them. He looked at her then back to Rhaegar. In a voice that had never been so quiet, he asked, “Is there still a dragon in the Red Keep?”

No one seemed to understand the question, not even her. But Rhaegar did. “The only dragons left are in this tent, little brother. You and I and Mother,” he said, as he reached for Lyanna. “But another will join us soon.”

Viserys pointed to her. “Mother says there is one growing in her. Is there also one in the lady’s belly?”

Rhaella realized that was the first time Rhaegar took such a thorough study of her. He turned away from Viserys as he moved to her. “Mother...?”

“It was from the last time...your father touched me,” she replied, trying and failing to stem the tears that poured out of her eyes. She heard the murmurs around the tent as her son, once more, hugged her. It would not surprise her if Aerys’ abuse of her was widely known, but all she could do now was savor her son’s embrace like she had so long ago from her husband.

“I thank the gods, Old and New, that he will never be able to lay a hand on her,” Rhaegar whispered. 

She pulled away, searching his eyes. “Her?”

He nodded. “I believe I have seen her, a woman grown battling beside my son,” he told her and her alone. “She rides a dragon.”

Rhaella’s eyes grew wide as she thought of what his words could mean.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
His mother had no reply to his information. It was possible she did not believe it herself, but he was certain of it. But the future was not what she wanted to know about now. It was the immediate past. “Could we have some privacy, please? Everyone except my wife and good-brother,” Rhaegar ordered gently. Naturally, everyone listened, even Viserys who allowed Captain Seaworth to escort him out.

He saw his young brother nod to something the man said and he actually smiled, something the prince had not seen in some time. “Viserys?”

“Once we were away from your father, his grip on the child diminished, but the poor boy was left with nightmares. It took me some doing to be allowed to comfort him as well. He did not think to need a mother’s love to drive the demons away.” But she smiled at him. “And now he has his brother back as well. You will be a great help to him, I am sure.” She took his hand in one of hers and took Lyanna’s in the other. “Now, please, tell me what it is you do not want to. I know something has happened beyond your father’s death.”

Rhaegar looked to Lyanna and then began. He told her everything, from the parley at the Trident and Robert’s betrayal to his comrades. Onto the sack of King’s Landing he went, but when he came to what Eddard had been shown in the throne room, he could not go on.

Ned stepped in. “Robert would not hear reason, hear that he dishonored himself by allowing the crimes to go unpunished. He even had swords drawn on myself and Lord Arryn.”

“He seems to be completely under Tywin Lannister’s influence,” Rhaegar added, He could see the hurt in his mother. She had been friends with Joanna Lannister. Then there were the whispers around court about her and his father, but he could not believe that, if there was anything, it was consensual.

Before there were any further remarks on the subject, Lyanna spoke. “Your Grace, I cannot begin to...this is all our fault. If I had known what our being together would lead to, your grandchildren’s deaths…”

“Hush, child. It was not you that stained your hands with their blood. Those who have done these acts have been marked by the Stranger and his minions, and I hope it sends them to all Seven Hells,” she said sadly, taking the crying girl in her arms. Once she had calmed down, Rhaella asked, “Have you been planning a counterattack? From what I heard, it sounds as if you have been here for quite some time.”

Rhaegar shook his head. “We are trying to negotiate for some time and it has born some fruit. Just after we were informed you were heading here, we received a rider who asked for a parley in a few days. Lord Arryn has been back and forth, negotiating for our safe passage into the city.”

“I do not trust Tywin Lannister, especially now.” Then her face grew stormy, the dragon that did lurk in his mother rearing its head again. “You intend to see him, am I correct?”

He didn’t want to have this talk with his mother, not yet. So he tried to change to topic. “How has Viserys been, truly? He does seem more like himself than last I saw him. And what of this Captain Seaworth? I sense there is more there than you are saying.”

She gave him a dangerous look but for a moment, but he tried to convey to her he didn’t want to continue along the path they had been, at least for now. Mercifully, his mother allowed him his unspoken request. “The good captain took shelter in one of the natural harbors on Dragonstone during a storm. I gather he did not know of the presence of myself or my retinue when that decision was made, for one of our ships startled him,” she said with a chuckle.

He was gladdened to see that the story was lightening his mother, as she went on to detail how the man was brought before her in the throne room. “He tried to seem as if he was not intimidated but he did finally fail. However, I and our men there determined, in the end, that he was little threat to us and he stayed as a guest until the storm blew through. And while there, he was pleasant company for me.”

“An honorable man, then,” he reasoned but caught his mother’s smirk. “Not an honorable man?”

“He is in his own way,” she said. “He is a smuggler, running between Essos and King’s Landing.” Then she went further to explain the story of why he did what he did for her. “He was a guest of ours, yet saw how worried I was, not hearing a whisper of what had happened to you. He had contradictory information coming to us as to battles and deaths, and then when I suffered an illness due to the babe, he offered to bring me here. He thought it was safer than sailing under Targaryen sigils. No one would think the Queen would dain to be seen in the presence of a notorious smuggler, would they?” She smiled then, a reassuring one that comforted him. “He swore a vow that I, Viserys and the babe would make it to you whole and hale.”

Rhaegar knew he should be shocked and offended by that, but he could not find it in his heart. Every man wore their honor differently, he had come to see, and if this man showed his by the mere act of returning his mother and brother to him, that man deserved his thanks and more. “If you will excuse me, but I think I need to speak with Captain Seaworth myself.”

Lyanna understood. “Come, your Grace. I am sure it has been a rough journey. You and the young prince must be tired, so we have ensured accommodations have been readied for you. If you would like, I can show you to them.”

Rhaella caught one last look from her son and agreed with her good daughter, allowing herself to be led out. He followed to the entrance of the tent, asking Barristan to bring Captain Seaworth to him. The two appeared before him a short time later.

“Captain Seaworth, please come in. You have absolutely nothing to fear from me. On the contrary, I owe you a debt,” Rhaegar told him.

The man still looked ill at ease. “‘Tis nothing, your Grace. I owe my thanks to the queen for not having me tossed in a cell, or worse, for trespassing on the island or its shores.”

This man was humble, a quality he was not used to seeing. “No, you have no idea how grateful I am. In fact, if there were a septon here, I would bestow a knighthood on you, at this very moment.”

“You do me a great honor, sire, but…” The sea captain seemed reluctant to admit something, even if it was something that Rhaegar already knew. “Your Grace, I am sure your Lady Mother informed you, but, I am, in truth, a smuggler. I hid at Dragonstone, not just due to ill winds, but because I knew it was not someplace the tax collectors would look for me.” 

Seaworth seemed ready to brace himself to his fate, but that was not Rhaegar’s intention. “Do you know, Captain Seaworth, that the man who occupies the capital now, Robert Baratheon, he and I are kin?” Seaworth shook his head, allowing Rhaegar to go on. “His grandmother was a Targaryen. And you would think that a man who shares blood with you would be horrified at the death of those who share that blood, no matter the distance.”

“Aye, your Grace, else they be called a kinslayer,” he agreed.

That was not something that had crossed the prince’s mind in the aftermath of learning of his childrens’ fates, but it was a fact. “Lord Tywin Lannister led a sack of the city, on behalf of the Lord of Storm’s End. Women raped, children murdered and a city starved. And among those dead babes are my own two. Kin to Lord Baratheon. But when he learned they had been killed, he celebrated in their deaths. Would you say he was honorable?”

Davos Seaworth seemed aghast at the notion. “Certainly not! If it were me, he’d be lucky to still have his throat in one piece.”

“And yet, here is a high lord who shows less honor than a man who would be judged a criminal.” It was the truth. The smuggler may not have literally saved his mother and brother, but he acted as a knight would fulfilling a promised he swore to a woman who was little more than a stranger. “Honor is not determined by birth, Captain Seaworth. It only shows itself in deeds.”

The man seemed to understand. “Words are wind.”

Rhaegar nodded. “Now, since your deed does deserve repayment,” Davos began to protest, but stopped at the look he was given, “please stay as my guest and I promise, I will speak to my advisors and see if there is a place for you. I want to gather men around me who are not the typical sort who would be left to govern. Yes, I have many nobles and knights, but I feel if we are to leave this world better than we found it, we must reach across those parts of society that divide us. Do you accept?” His mouth hanging open, the man could only nod. “Good then. It is settled. You will sup with us tonight. I find I wish to hear many tales of your adventures at sea.”

“You sound like your brother. He had a jolly time on the way here,” Davos smiled telling him that as he took his leave.

Of all the man had told him, that was the finest thing of all, Queen Rhaella was safe and Viserys and his new sibling would never again have to deal with their mad father anymore.


	15. The Illusion of Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhaella and Lyanna talk about all that has happened. Jon takes more meeting in the capital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Yes, I'm back! So sorry it has been taking me so long to update anything. The creative juices have been slow to re-flow. Plus, I've had a crisis of confidence in my writing overall. But the good news is, I have found not one, but two betas who have helped me out immensely. So I want to send so much thanks to Greed of Rage, who has pointed out many sound issues in my stories, here and going forward. And also, thanks to toaquiprashippar, for all her cheerleading me on with this story. Bestest R+L=J shipper out there!
> 
> And I promise, the story is moving forward, but pieces have to be put into their correct places, so I beg a little more patience with the story. I hope what I have planned is worth the wait.

In the week after Queen Rhaella joined their party, Jon Arryn had gone back and forth from the encampment to the Red Keep, hammering out the terms of the parlay with Tywin Lannister. They had agreed, in conjunction with the High Septon, that it would take place in the Sept of Baelor, but the date was becoming difficult to nail down. Rhaegar would lead his side, with his mother, Lord Stark, Lord Arryn, Prince Oberyn and Lord Stannis accompanying them. And, of course, Lyanna. Robert would have Tywin Lannister by his side, with no one else mentioned.

In fact, Lyanna being there had been a strict condition of the meeting, along with a time before it began where Robert could speak with her private. Lyanna shook her head, figuring out that it was the oaf’s last-ditch effort to win her hand. She agreed at last, but with a condition of her own. “Ser Arthur is by my side during the meet.”

“I am sure that Robert would not dare try anything, your Grace,” Arryn said. She knew he didn’t want to make the journey into the city anymore until the meeting, but when Rhaegar added his instance to hers, he nodded, certainly seeing the wisdom of the request.

So they awaited the answer, sitting out in a clearing with Rhaella and Viserys. She had been cautious around the boy since he arrived, having been told by her husband about how he acted before Rhaegar left for the Trident. And he was still quite withdrawn, interacting more with Rhaella and Captain Seaworth than with her or his brother. Even with the distance, though, she enjoyed having a younger brother around. She missed Benjen terribly, had since the start of this mess. But, Father had constantly said, “There must always be Stark in Winterfell,” and now that fell to the youngest of them.

“He had always been such a gentle boy, even more so than Rhaegar,” a voice spoke behind her. Lyanna turned and saw Rhaegar’s mother come behind where she was sitting on a fallen tree, watching Viserys practicing his sparring with Ser Arthur. “I was so afraid what his father was doing to his mind. He was lost for a time there.”

“Children are resilient, your Grace, far more than we often think,” she replied. She stood and faced the Queen, curtsying out of respect.

The older woman merely shook her head. “It is to you that I should be bowing before. But Rhaegar says he has not been crowned, so he is therefore not yet the king.”

“That was Stannis talking,” Lyanna commented. “I did not realize how wedded to the law he was.”

“He seems to have the curse of the second son. It is often tragic that the boy most suited to rule would only be able to do so due to tragedy when they seem born to it,” Rhaella said. “My father was a second son, and only inherited the throne because his brother fell in love. Nothing terrible, to be sure, but often problematic.”

Lyanna looked at the ground, certain that she was about to be confronted about everything that had happened. “My Queen…”

But there was no reproach in her voice. “You misunderstand, Princess Lyanna, I understand the situation well. I am not angry with you or my son. You were only following your hearts, like Jenny and Duncan. There were forces at work here that took advantage of it and used it to their own ends.” She let out a sigh, sitting on the log and beckoning Lyanna to join her. “Joanna would be so heartbroken to see what has happened to her family. A husband, grown as cold as her grave, a son honorable and yet dishonored. Another son scorned by most of is kin for the facts of his birth and a daughter…”

Lyanna smirked. “We have met,” she informed Rhaella. “It went as well as you may think.”

“I truly do not know where Cersei came from,” she replied. “I mourned for her mother, even with the rumors that swirled about her and my brother. And I can see how the loss of a mother may affect a young girl. But Cersei is beyond anything that is understandable. The stories of her cruelty and lack of forgiveness have shocked me. I can only say I breathed in relief when Aerys turned down Tywin’s proposal.”

“And did you know, I had it in my mind to propose another lady’s hand for my son?” Lyanna looked at her oddly, not sure of where she meant to go with this conversation. But the Queen smiled. “I remembered reading the history of the Conquest, about Aegon and Visenya and Rhaenys. About that confrontation on the Trident and how it concluded. Do you know that history?”

Lyanna was put off a little by the question. Her father had allowed her quite the liberal education, considering she was a girl who was only expected to marry and mother. She had studied with her brothers and maester about the eight thousand years of recorded history of the Starks. Of course, she knew of Aegon and Torrhen. But she merely replied, “My father thought it a good idea that I learn some of my history from texts instead of songs, your Grace.”

“Yours was the last kingdom to fall to the dragon and you humbled yourselves in doing so. As such, I always thought it appropriate a descendant of that last king should marry into our line,” Rhaella explained. “But before I could offer my suggestion, Rhaegar was betrothed to Elia.”

Lyanna could do nothing but look away. It still pained her, what had become of the Dornish princess and her children. “My queen, there are no words that I can even contemplate expressing--”

“There is no need to. House Stark is great with honor and I cannot fathom you wishing ill on another for your own advancement,” Rhaella said, accepting the unspoken sentiment. “I will mourn for them all till the day I meet the Stranger and see them again. But they would not want me to look back. There is a future ahead for your child and for mine. And I pray for the blessings of all the gods on them.”

She held out her hand and Lyanna reached for it, kissing the back of it. When she looked upon the kind face again, the eyes were not trained on her, but beyond her. She swiveled her head and saw Viserys approach slowly. He was looking at her with an expression she could not describe. But, wanting to ease the rising tension, she asked him, “And how did your practice go with Ser Arthur? Do you think he has a future as a knight?”

The young boy looked back at the Kingsguard before answering, “He is very good, and can fight with two swords.”

“Aye, he has shown me, but not let me try it for myself,” Lyanna said.

“You are a lady, a princess! You are not allowed to wield a sword!” he cried with surprise.

“I had three brothers and no mother to rear me as a lady, so I took after the only family I had around me. And my Lord Father eventually relented, allowed me to train a bit with my younger brother,” she told him.

He narrowed his eyes. “You fought with a sword?” He seemed mesmerized.

“Yes,” she answered, “but I am better on a horse. I will even let you in on a secret, young prince. I defeated three knights in jousting at Harrenhal. Unseated them all quite easily too.”

“You were the Knight of the Laughing Tree? The one Father thought was there to do him harm?” He took a step back, a shiver of fear apparent in his body.

Lyanna sighed at that, shaking her head at the absurdity of it. “Yes, I was that mystery knight. But I had little thought of the king, in truth. I rode to defend a friend and show the dishonor of some.”

“And rode rather well, I would say.” Rhaegar’s voice joined them, speaking to his brother. “I was the one who discovered her identity.”

“You never told Father? He would be very angry if he knew!” Viserys’ words quivered for a bit when he mentioned his father. “He ordered the knight brought before him!”

Now Rhaegar sat on the other side of Lyanna, holding his arms out to his brother. “Father was a very sick man. His head was not right and it made him believe things that were not true,” her husband tried to explain. “When I found out Lyanna was the Knight of the Laughing Tree, I knew she meant no harm to him, but his illness would not let him believe it. And it is the duty of a knight to protect women and children, is it not?”

Viserys turned to Arthur and he answered. “It is one of the most important vows a knight swears to, and one they take great pains to ensure,” Dayne answered.

“Now, would I have been protecting a woman guilty of nothing more than standing up for a friend if I told Father?” Rhaegar asked. When Viserys shook his head, his brother agreed. “No, I would not. So, I kept her secret and brought her shield to Father. Where the knight went to, nobody knows.”

“Except us,” the boy concluded.

“Well, since the parlay at the Trident, the story has been spread wider. Even a song or two written about it,” Rhaegar concluded with a chuckle.

“But are you good with a sword?” Viserys asked again.

Arthur stepped in once more. “She will never be as good as Ser Barristan or me,” he allowed. Lyanna gave him a sour look for that assessment, but he shrugged his shoulders to it. “However, one should not underestimate our princess here. I believe with the right blade and the necessary intention, she would seriously wound any fool who thinks so little of her.”

She was appeased by that conclusion. “I thank you, Ser Arthur, for your praise.”

But Rhaegar was smirking. “I have noticed, my friend, that you did not include Ser Oswell in your reviews. Do you think my wife could best him?”

Now Arthur smiled uninhibited. “Oh, without question, your Grace. But that would be credited more to my brother’s japes rather than the princess’ prowess.”

To that, all four let out a hearty laugh, which only grew when another figure approached the group. “And what are you all finding so mirthful?” Ser Oswell asked them. 

 

Jon Arryn had lost count of the number of time he had been in and out of King’s Landing. While he was honored to have the reputations of being an excellent mediator, it was a thankless job. And this one was more so because he was dealing with his two foster sons who’s relationship had irrevocably changed and was not likely to be mended by any form of appeasement. 

Not that he blamed Ned. Jon’s own stomach had lurched at the sight of the...they were hardly bodies, what remained of Rhaenys and little Aegon. The word was the killer was Gregor Clegane, known as the Mountain, and Jon could see it. If he’d believed the stories his own wet nurse had told him about giants, Jon would swear some of their blood ran through the man’s veins. But just as sickening was the way Robert had reacted to the deaths. 

Jon had heard some of the words spoken before he had made his presence known in the throne room that day. He saw all too well how Tywin was manipulating Robert. He sensed the Lannisters were the reason Lyanna’s note had not reached her family, although Hoster seemed to have some knowledge as well. In the end, it did not matter who was responsible for all of it. It happened, thousands of innocents died because of it, and all the living could do now was move forward and try to bring peace back to Westeros.

It would not be an easy thing, negotiating with Tywin Lannister. Jon Arryn had never liked the man. Few did in the Seven Kingdoms, but he irked the Lord of the Eyrie in particular. He understood that House Lannister had been in shambles under Tytos Lannister, but the ruthlessness that the son used to recover their pride seemed overmuch.

Still, he put those feelings aside as he entered the Small Council chambers in the Red Keep and was faced with the man himself. Tywin sat in the middle of a long table, alone but for a cupbearer. He looked up at the sound of footsteps. “Lord Arryn,” he said in a clipped tone.

“Lord Lannister,” Jon answered back equally brisk. “Where is Robert?”

“What is the latest demand from Rhaegar Targaryen?” Tywin asked, ignoring the question.

Jon let out a sigh. He really was going to make this more difficult than it needed to be. “A wise one, if I may say. Princess Lyanna has agreed to meet with Robert--but Ser Arthur Dayne must be by her side.” The other lord was about to protest, but Jon stopped him. “If the roles were reversed, would you not want your daughter guarded as she should be?”

“My daughter was captured, I needn’t remind you. In fact, it was done by the man you serve.” Tywin threw down the quill he had been using. “I must ask, how can you serve a Targaryen? It was you who raised your banners first. Aerys demanded both the boys, but you began a war to stop that.”

“I serve Prince Rhaegar because he is the rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms,” Jon bit out. “And it was not he who demanded Ned and Robert, but his madman of a father.” He was quickly losing his temper, something that rarely happened. He sighed before continuing. “I was rash, I will not deny that. I should have realized that plans were being made to remove Aerys. But when Lyanna Stark disappeared and was allegedly kidnapped by the prince, events were too swift to stop. Brandon Stark took off for King’s Landing, Rickard was called to answer for his son and the story wrote itself.”

“He is a fine catch, Aerys’ son. Every woman in court wanted him to look at her in that way. Yet it was a wild little thing that stole him out from under the Princess Elia,” Tywin smirked.

‘Wild little thing’? Did Lannister truly see her with the same prejudice as most of the South? Choosing to ignore the idea of a theft, Arryn asked instead, “Do you know what it was that that ‘wild little thing’ did to win the heart of the prince?” Tywin’s glare was all he was met with. “You know of Harrenhal, of the Knight of the Laughing Tree? The rider who ousted three men from their horses? That was Princess Lyanna.”

A voice from the side of the room caught his attention. “It is true then?” Jaime Lannister asked, coming to his father’s side. He was dressed in the full armor of the Kingsguard, down to the pristine white cloak.

Arryn grimaced. The knight had been the talk of the Tourney, at least until Rhaegar present Lyanna with that drown of winter roses. Still, he could not help but admire the girl for her deeds. “Yes, Lyanna told us she was the Knight of the Laughing Tree.”

Jaime let out a chuckle. “I can see how Rhaegar won her, and Robert lost her.”

He could tell Tywin was getting more and more peeved by the conversation when he directed back in its intended direction. “That is the request you have brought to me? Allowing a Kingsguard to be present when Lyanna meets with Robert?”

“A fair request Father,” Jaime said. “We would not want anything to happen to the Princess.”

Tywin’s eyes shifted from his son to Jon and back. “I see nothing untoward in it. Fine, she may be accompanied by a Kingsguard.”

Now Jon laughed. “I did not say Kingsguard, I said Ser Arthur Dayne. He has become quite protective of her, personally escorting her from the Red Mountains to the Trident and Rhaegar trusts him implicitly.”

Tywin could see he had been outmaneuvered but nodded in agreement. “Who will you be bringing to the detente? I think it advisable that we know ahead of time, for security purposes.”

It gave Jon a degree of satisfaction to list the name that Rhaegar Targaryen would bring. “Princess Lyanna, of course. Queen Rhaella has recently returned from Dragonstone, so she will attend as well. Lord Stark will represent the North, naturally and the Riverlands. Lord Stannis Baratheon will speak for the Stormlands, Lady Olenna Tyrell for the Reach and…” He let the last name unspoken for a moment. “Prince Oberyn Martell of Dorne.”

That got some feathers ruffled on Tywin Lannister, but he said nothing, only came to a silent agreement. But he noticed Jaime have a reaction to one of the names. “Is the queen...how is she?”

He saw the young man was worried as he asked, and Jon felt he needed to be alleviated of any he had. “Her Grace has come through the last few weeks quite well. Except for…” He was hesitant to tell the Kingsguard of the state of the queen, but it would be out in the open soon anyway. “She is with child again.”

Jaime looked like he lost focus, his head swirling around think over the implication. He was not able, however, to react to it, because Tywin cut anything further off. “Thank you for delivering this. I shall discuss it with his Grace and send our next response via raven.” He headed for the door, but stopped, waiting for his son to join him. “Ser Jaime!”

The boy threw his father a nasty look but obeyed. He managed to whisper something to Jon as he passed. “Tell her Grace that if I could go back and stop it, I would.”

Jon didn’t answer but acknowledged him all the same. Now, since he was left alone in the room, he figured his mission was complete for now. But another shape revealed itself. “A fine boy, Ser Jaime is. And will be, if he is able to free himself for his family.”

Jon narrowed his eyes, seeing the Spider make his way over. “Lord Varys, I was surprised you were not here, nor Grand Maester Pycelle. One would think it proper for the small council to be present in its own chamber.”

Varys smiled thinly. “One would, but Lord Tywin is keeping much of the work we do to himself.” He continued to saunter over, looking rather pleased. “A wise request, having her Grace accompanied by the greatest swordsman in the realm. Robert, being not anywhere near a great warrior himself to the Sword of the Morning, shouldn’t try anything now.”

Jon felt a surge of panic. “Robert was…?” Had his foster son been overtaken by madness?

The Master of Whisperers laid a hand on Jon’s arm in comfort. “Lord Tywin had already suggested it would not work and only make things worse. But Robert Baratheon is an impulsive man. So, an excellent precaution.”

Jon was unaccustomed to being praised by a man such as Varys. He was not one to dole out praise without some other motivation. “Is there something I can do for you, my lord?”

 

“There are things I did not get a chance to tell the prince when I last saw him. Things I was unable to do. Please, convey him my condolences on his loss, congratulations on his victories and that the birds sing sweetest with a harp.” And with that, the Spider slipped away.

Jon thought about those words as he made his way back to the camp. After the Prince and his family returned to their tent, the prince’s council was called and Jon made his report. “The only thing we are waiting on is a date, but I suspect that will be soon.” Rhaegar seemed pleased, but Jon held up his hand to indicate there was more. “Varys came crawling out before I left. He made mention that Robert was attempting what sounded like,” he leveled a gave at Lyanna as he said it, “a kidnapping of the Princess.”

Rhaegar looked rightly alarmed, as did Ned, but Lyanna’s reaction quite frankly shocked him. “And this surprises you, Lord Arryn? I would expect nothing less of Robert Baratheon,” she replied.

“But, your Grace, this is putting you in an awful lot of danger,” he said.

“You have no faith in Ser Arthur?” When he didn’t answer, she tried to assuage his concerns. “We cannot not have me meet with Robert. And I owe him something in the way of an explanation. So, I will go but I promise I will not go unawares.” Then she looked at her brother. “In fact, I have an idea. Why don’t we offer to have Ned accompany us? That may even play on Robert’s mind that it could aid him in getting what he wants.” She didn’t say anything, only giving Rhaegar a look. When he nodded his agreement, she turned back to Jon. “I think it a good idea you go back and present this to Tywin and Robert, if he is even there, yes?”

Jon just took a deep breath. He was hating his reputations as a mediator once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I'm now on Tumblr. Not much there, but come have a look!
> 
> Dragons and Wolves: https://msquared79.tumblr.com


	16. Looking Into the Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime comes to some realizations and seeks to atone for his crimes. But will he be forgiven?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little Halloween treat!
> 
> I want to send thanks to toaquiprashippar and Greed Of Rage for all their help and encouragement in this chapter. And to thank all of you for sticking with me, even as my updates haven't been...up to date. Rest assured, I have stuff written for all my stories. And it will get published...eventually.
> 
> Also, I have forgotten to mention, I have set up a tumblr. There is not much there, but stop by and drop a line! I love chatting with my readers, and those I myself read. It's called Dragons and Wolves at https://msquared79.tumblr.com/

When Jaime awoke the next morning, a slim, lovely arm reached for him and wrapped itself over his chest. It was not the first time this arm had embraced him in the morn, but it was the first time he stilled at its touch.

Cersei didn’t seem to notice. “You’ve been quiet,” she observed. “I have been back in King’s Landing for some time, yet you seem to have shied away from me.”

“I have been through a lot,” he answered, hoping to keep his answer vague.

“You saved the city, Jaime. You should be lauded as a hero, yet I hear the whispers. They call you Kingslayer,” she purred. 

“That is what I am,” he reminded her. As much as he wanted to be ashamed of what he had done, in his heart, he knew it to be the right decision. The words of all others meant little to him. He only wished to hear from his prince.

“He was a madman,” Cersei said, her chin propped up on her arm while her other hand played with the fine hairs on his chest. Once, he would have enjoyed her touch. But he knew something had shifted between them. He tried to push her hands off of him, but the only grasped for and held on tighter. He looked to his twin and saw what he thought was a genuine smile on her lips. “He needed to die.”

Jaime knew that. He had suspected for a time that plans were being arranged to see Aerys off the throne. That was what he had thought Lord Gerold and Arthur were working on with Prince Rhaegar, especially after he had disappeared. But then the Lady Lyanna had been allegedly kidnapped, making him think he had been wrong.

To some extent, that was true. But seeing the armies amassed outside the city gates, something must have been able to be done before his father had stepped ahead of anyone’s plot. He knew his father had taken advantage of the chaos after the betrayal at the Trident. Jaime had to give it to Rhaegar, it was a timely move, bringing the truth about him and the Stark girl to light. There could have been a potentially devastating battle, but it had been avoided.

For the most part, at least. Robert still had fought, but more a craven than any true warrior. Jaime thought the man a fool. He had been betrothed to the daughter of the Warden of the North but had met her only two or three times. From those meetings, he had become enamored of the girl, of her beauty, her grace, her...whatever. Yet, from what Jaime had heard of her, brief remarks here and there, there was much more to her.

It was almost a pity that Father’s plan had fallen apart so spectacularly. Jaime didn’t think he had a type, but she did share traits with his sweet sister. No one would cage that she-wolf. She had claws and was willing to use them to protect herself.

Best not tell Cersei that. “What are you thinking, my love?” she asked him, breaking his revive. 

“So, Robert Baratheon, eh?” As much as he loved her and yearned for her, there was still a part of him that enjoyed poking the lioness. He’d come to enjoy it as their brother Tyrion had grown and taken pleasure in the same when he was able.

Her look of disgust actually amused him. “I do not care what Father wants, I will not marry him. If I cannot have Rhaegar than I shall marry you.” She made it sound so simple.

“I am Kingsguard, I cannot marry,” he said as he took the opportunity to rise from the bed. “Besides, you have yearned for this since we were young. Didn’t you tell me a woodwitch told you that you would be queen one day?” Cersei’s eyes narrowed on him, making him smirk more. That was usually the look he got when he told her a truth she knew was right. “What was it she said? ‘Queen you shall be. Until another comes, younger and more beautiful’?” 

“Are you saying that Lyanna Stark is more beautiful than me?” A cold fury in her eyes that unnerved Jaime, but it was her next words that truly scared him. “And who is to say I will not be Rhaegar’s queen at some point. Elia Martell nearly died from childbirth twice. Who’s to say that something unfortunate will not befall that wolf bitch or her dragonspawn as well?” Then her eyes brightened as if seized by a thought. “I did not see any maesters around when I was being held by them. Perhaps as a gesture of good faith, send out Pycelle. He may be able to ensure that her child does not live?”

Jaime knew Grand Maester Pycelle had been in his father’s pocket for years. He thought him an incompetent fool and would not entrust the man to care for even his family. But what his sister was even thinking was unbelievable to him, especially after what he had done to Aerys and seen done to Rhaegar’s children. With the exception of battle, killing should not be that easily thought, and especially not to an unborn babe. He shook his head vigorously.

“You would do such an atrocity?” he asked.

“Atrocity? Lyanna Stark is a barbarian and so is her brother. The harlot should have been burned with Rickard and Brandon for the chaos she has caused the realm. If there was any of the Mad King’s wildfire left, I know exactly how it can still be put to use.” 

Jaime could still remember the screams of Rickard Stark as he was burned alive, and the gagging of Brandon as he choked himself to death trying to reach for the sword. But more than that he remembered as he stood and did nothing. Not then, and not any other time he watched a helpless victim be burned by those wicked green flames. “No, sweet sister,” he tried to reason to her, tried to block those memories out of his mind. “I cannot let you blacken your soul with such an act. You don’t...you don’t know the smell…” Then he thought of the scene in the throne room with his father and Robert. “And after what Gregor Clegane did within this keep, I will not be part in harming an innocent. I may be a sullied one, but I am still Kingsguard, still sworn to protect the royal family. That is a family that now includes Lyanna Stark and her child to be.”

“I doubt that will be for much longer. If the Prince returns, I do not see him wanting to be guarded by the man who killed his father. And if not, Father will convince Robert to release you from your duties so you can return to Casterly Rock.” Cersei’s assessment was sound, but it made him uncomfortable. In truth, he didn’t want to be released. He wanted Rhaegar to pronounce his fate, whatever it may be.

He also wanted to get out of Cersei’s chambers. It was still too early for the sun to rise, but that would not be for much longer. “I...should be going,” he said, putting his breeches and tunic back on. “We wouldn’t want anyone to see me.” 

Cersei swanned over to him, naked as their nameday. “How I wish it were not so,” she said with a pout.

“Still, better we are safe,” he replied, giving her a quick peck on the lips. He was almost out of her grasp when she pulled him closer to her, her lips parting his and her tongue in his mouth. It took him a minute, but he was able to extricate himself from her, walking towards the door but still facing his sister.

His twin, his reflection, his mirror. He had never had such feelings for her, such fear, such loathing. What had happened to her to invoke such feelings in him?

He managed to avoid any of the servants or guards around the Red Keep on his way back to the White Sword Tower. Once he was back in his own quarters, he washed Cersei off of himself as best he could. Making his way back to the bed, however, he heard a creaking noise. Grabbing a knife he kept handy, Jaime made his way towards the sound. He was ready to strike when…

“Surely I have not done anything too severe to warrant an attack by you, Ser Jaime?” Lord Varys cooed.

Alarm bells sounded out in Jaime’s head but he tried to calm himself. “My Lord, to what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked.

Varys eyed him as a man would eye a whore. “That was the same question I was going to ask you. You see, I observed the conversation you had with Lord Arryn a few days ago when he came to speak to the Lord Hand. I was rather comforted when you asked about the health of Queen Rhaella.”

Rhaella Targaryen was so different from her brother-husband. Kind, caring, in his time as a Kingsguard, he had come to view her as a second mother almost. The fact that she knew Joanna Lannister and told him about the mother he could barely remember only added to the feelings she conjured up.

But he knew better than to let the other know any of that. “I know what she went through with Aerys. It is only human to ask about her welfare,” he replied cockily.

The Spider saw right through him. “You are not like your father or sister,” he observed. “You have compassion, concern for others.” Jaime shifted uncomfortably, but Varys placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Do not hide it. Many would see it as a weakness, your father among them.”

“My sister, as well,” Jaime muttered.

Varys smiled, sharing that he understood. “My little birds have noticed you once or twice in the Red Keep’s sept. Odd for a house of worship in a fortress, but odder still, I think, to find a Lannister in it. Be that as it may, they have heard you whisper prayers to your gods. You seek forgiveness, from what I hear.”

Again, Jaime did not want to answer and Varys knew. “If you would like, I can see you out of the capital for a time and seek out Prince Rhaegar. I would think he would be the one who can grant you what you wish for.” He let that hang for a moment before adding, “If you chose, you must decide now, lest the city awakens and any routes out are discovered.”

“Why?” Jaime did not understand the offer. He did not understand why the man would do this for him, what he had to gain from it. He was desperate to take the offer but feared the price.

“There is precious little compassion left in Westeros. When I see it, I feel it must be nurtured. If it dies, what will be left of us?” He looked to the door he had emerged from.

Jaime’s eyes followed his and he nodded. Varys and he left the chambers and wound their way through a maze of corridors and hallways, down, around and through until, remarkably, Jaime saw sunlight. “How did you…?”

The Master of Whisperers actually laughed. “Do you think I would not have found an escape route if I needed one?” He shook his head. “I know you will want to speak with Rhaegar, but which way it will go, even I cannot say. I will tell you this--I shall return to this spot as dusk settles. If you are not here by the time darkness falls, I will leave and you will be unable to make your way back to the Red Keep.”

Varys was about to turn his back to Jaime but was stopped by the Kingsguard’s words. “Thank you, Lord Varys. And if I do not see you again…”

Varys gave him a nod, acknowledging the sentiment. He turned away, leaving Jaime alone. It took a few minutes for him to orient himself, but he realized just where outside the city walls he was. He walked for an hour until he saw a hilltop adorned with numerous house banners. But it was three that drew him to that spot. One was the three-headed dragon, one was the direwolf and the last was the plain white shield of the Kingsguard. He made his way there until he was stopped by soldiers bearing House Stark’s sigil. 

“I am Ser Jaime Lannister of the Kingsguard. I wish to speak with their Graces, Queen Rhaella, Prince Rhaegar and Princess Lyanna.” He voice was clear and strong, belying the fear that he was feeling. He knew he could be killed at any moment, but prayed for every one he would be afforded.

Roughly grabbed by both arms, his hands were bound and he was led to the tent of his brothers in the Kingsguard. It was a small relief to him that only Ser Oswell Whent was there by himself. Jaime was not surprised to see the man trying to catch some sleep. But the commotion caused by him being dragged along must have woken Oswell.

One eye blinked open. Then it closed. In the next minute, Oswell was sitting upright and staring at him. “You were the last person I thought to see when I woke,” he said, a tease in his voice.

“To be sure, you were the last person I expected to see as well,” Jaime replied tartly.

That broke a smile on the other man’s face. “In spite of everything, it is good to see you, little lion.” Then his fist shot out to towards Jaime’s chin. He went down like a sack of potatoes.

Always fast with his mouth, Jaime thought it a good idea to get his thoughts injected before another beating came. “I deserve that, and much more, brother.”

“‘Brother’? Is that what you still think we are? After what you did?” For as genial as the knight usually was, his words were like stab wounds to Jaime. “After you killed the king? After you let your father’s men rape and kill Elia? Bash in the boy’s head? Stab Princess Rhaenys half a hundred times, there was not a stitch of skin left intact?”

“Did you see these wounds? Were you in the presence of the joy that was expressed at them?” Oswell remained silent, unable to answer Jaime. “I saw what was done to them. My father…” He could feel the bile rising up, threatening to spew out of him, but he fought it off. “My father was proud of what had been done! Robert cheered!”

“And what did you do, Ser Jaime?” another voice called out, calm as you can be. Both knights turned and saw Prince Rhaegar Targaryen standing before them.

 

The first rays of sunlight seeped into their tent when Barristan Selmy shook Rhaegar from sleep. “Your Grace,” he tried to whisper as quietly as possible, to not wake Lyanna. “A Stark guard arrived and have informed us...that someone has come to see you.” The man was nervous, an unusual state for him.

Rhaegar slipped out of Lyanna’s embrace and mercifully, she turned over, her chest rising and falling with each breath. They made their way to just outside the tent, where Rhaegar questioned him further. “And who is it that wishes to see me at such an hour?”

Barristan stood straight as he delivered the name. “Ser Jaime Lannister.”

Rhaegar actually took a step back. “Ser Jaime? How did he…?”

“They didn’t question him, just dropped him at the Kingsguard tent,” his knight replied. “Ser Arthur and Lord Gerold stepped away for a while to prepare for the day, so Oswell was left alone.”

The prince cocked an eyebrow up at that. “And what was the black bat’s reaction?” he asked as he stood there, absorbing the news.

“Didn’t hear that,” he answered, “and it is something I regret.”

Rhaegar clasped his shoulder. “Give me a moment.” He ran back into the tent, grabbing a tunic and boots. It had been too cold of late to sleep without some clothing, so he had his breeches on. But he hurried to throw the other garments on and made his way to the tent of his sworn swords. 

By the time he had arrived, there was a sound that could only be a body collapsing to the ground. The prince was momentarily concerned Oswell Whent had done damage to the younger man, but actually breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the smart retort. What followed after that from Lannister stirred pain and anger in Rhaegar, pushing him forward with his own question.

Jaime did not answer, only looked down in shame.

But the dragon would not let that go. “Did you cheer? Were you filled with joy? Did you take satisfaction as you stabbed my father in the back?”

Jaime looked up at him, fury in his emerald eyes. They burned like two coals of wildfire. “It saved the city!” he barked out before catching himself. But Rhaegar made no further comment. He wanted to hear the justification for himself. “He was going to burn the city. ‘Burn them all!’ he kept repeating.” There were tears in the lad’s eyes. “That is all I hear when I close my eyes now, your Grace. ‘Burn them all!’ I had a choice. My duty as a Kingsguard, or my honor as a man.” Jaime swiveled his head at Oswell. “What would you have done, were you there, Whent? If you knew what he had planned and the means to stop it, would have?” Then he turned to back to Rhaegar. “Would you have done it, your Grace? What is worse, being a kinslayer or allowing hundreds of thousands of people die?”

That was the answer Rhaegar had been expecting, and questions he was uncomfortable answering. Lord Gerold had reported those fact after he was allowed access to Ser Jaime, who had been kept in his quarters in the White Sword Tower. He knew the details of his father’s last hours, what he had planned upon learning of Lord Tywin’s betrayal.

There had been a topic of debate, what should happen to Ser Jaime when hostilities ceased. Gerold and Barristan were adamant that he should be punished for regicide. It was the foremost vow of the Kingsguard--protect the king. But this king had been a madman, had a plan in place to destroy the city if he were in danger of defeat. And in killing the king, Jaime had saved the lives of every person in King’s Landing. That was how Lyanna had seen it, and told Rhaegar so. 

Rhaegar had no answers.

Then Jaime continued. “When word reached us about my father’s host, I asked the king to go protect Princess Elia and your children. He sent Ser Lewyn and told me he needed my protection, that the Dornish were beneath the dragon, was how he put it. When I saw the bodies…” The young man began to crack. He fell to his knees and began begging, “If it my fault they are dead. If I had been there, I would have stopped it. They were Lannister men, they would have listened to their liege lord’s son!” 

“No, they wouldn’t,” Rhaegar replied. There was another rustling of fabric and the prince saw the Lord Commander and the Sword of the Morning enter the tent as well. Gerold’s face was unreadable, but Ser Arthur looked at the boy with pity. He joined in gazing down at Jaime. “For now, Ser Jaime, I think it best you remain in the custody of your brothers. I must take counsel with my advisors regarding your fate.”

“I understand, your Grace,” Jaime mumbled as Rhaegar nodded to Lord Gerold. Then he exited the tent, Arthur at his side.

“And what will be his fate, if I may ask?” Ser Arthur Dayne queried. The question, however, was ignored.

By the time he returned to his own tent, Lyanna was awake and nibbling on fruits and fried bread to break her fast. She looked up at him, noticing his mood. “What has happened?”

He kissed the crown of her head before sitting next to her. “Ser Jaime Lannister has just arrived,” he simply said.

Lyanna’s eyes went wide. “Jaime...Lannister?” The shock could not help but bubble up through her voice. He merely nodded as she asked him, “He just walked into the encampment?”

“Well, walked up to one of your brother’s men, from the way it was explained to me. But, yes, as if he were stopping in to chat,” Rhaegar replied with a shrug of his shoulders.

She had a strange look on her face. “Is he still alive?”

“Is who still alive?” It was his mother’s voice he heard. She walked in holding Viserys’ hand but was distracted by what she heard.

He quickly jumped up and planted a soft kiss on her cheek. But he was not sure if she should be told this information. Rhaella had a tender spot in her heart for Jaime Lannister. He knew the knight took special care to shield her as much as possible from her brother’s madness, though it was little that could be done. Thinking about that, however, offered him an opportunity to gain some opinions about what could be done with the disgraced Kingsguard.

When she was seated and began eating, Rhaegar told her the news. “Ser Jaime Lannister somehow made it out of King’s Landing and arrived here at the camp a short time ago.”

Now his mother’s eyes went wide. She had been about to take a sip from her teacup but put it down when her hands began to shake. “He is here?”

Both he and Lyanna nodded. “I have just learned of this myself. It does seem foolish to walk into the camp of House Lannister’s enemies,” she said.

“Or it is a brave thing,” Rhaella suggested. “And if there is one thing that I have seen from Ser Jaime Lannister, it is he does have bravery. Something he inherited from his mother, I believe.” Then she turned her attention back to him. “What will you do with him?”

“I do not have an answer to that yet. It has been a topic that has come up infrequently with the Kingsguard,” he told them. “And I know Lyanna has her own opinion on the matter. But the fact remains, he killed his king. He broke the most solemn vow of his brotherhood. In three hundred years, that has never happened. It has not even been considered.”

“If I may make a suggestion, my son?” his mother started, after glancing at Lyanna, “Firstly, I would like to speak with him before any judgment is passed. I think I deserve to hear from his own mouth the fate that befell Aerys.” Rhaegar agreed wholeheartedly with that sentiment. Of all his people, Rhaella Targaryen had been the longest-suffering of his victims. She lived with his madness for more than half her life and, as his widow, she ought to hear about his end. “Next, while he is under the command of the Kingsguard, there should be more considered than what his crime was. I think it a good idea that you hear from others. Perhaps even…” She let out a sigh before saying, “even Robert or Tywin. They were there to witness the aftermath of the king’s death.”

As he considered her suggestions, Lyanna chimed in. “I think it also is taken into consideration what he did because he killed the king.” She looked to the side of the tent that faced the capital as she said, “There is still a city standing because he was able to stop the pyromancers from carrying out the king’s orders. The death toll, while great, would have been unbearably high.” 

Rhaegar looked between the two women who were so dear to him. “If his fate were in your hands, what would you do?”

Lyanna spoke first. “He broke an oath. There is no getting around that. I know Ned, he would damn Ser Jaime for that. But he also upheld an oath, one that swore to protect the weak and innocent. Should that not be considered just as sacred?”

Without saying a word, he swung his gaze to his mother. Rhaella took a deep breath before she began. “He was named to the Kingsguard to get at Lord Tywin. But I know Ser Jaime saw it as a great honor, one he was committed to fulfilling to the best of his ability. I think...I think you should ask him what he wants. What he thinks his fate should be. I think I know the answer, but whatever it is, you will get the measure of the man from it.”

He had a suspicion as to his mother’s line of thinking on that. He was thinking the same thing too. And that was something that scared him, though why he could not say.


	17. The Condemned Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lion faces the fire of the dragons...and gets a surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving to my fellow Americans! A light appetizer before we all gorge on turkey and mashed potatoes...Jaime Lannister faces the Targaryens.

With Rhaegar’s permission, Rhaella Targaryen went to the tent that Ser Jaime Lannister was being held to speak with him directly. It was an opportunity she had been waiting for but did not think she would get so soon. With a nod, she waited for Ser Barristan to allow her in, but he hesitated.

“Your Grace, I know why you have affection for the boy. Even for one so young, he has a great deal of honor, a true devotion to the vows. But you must remember, when he took them, he took all of them, even the ones that came with a terrible cost,” the knight told her.

“I understand,” she said. “But perhaps it is time that some of them are reviewed. For in the wrong hands, they are more harmful than noble.” Not saying another word, she went into the tent.

Jaime Lannister sat on a cot and looked up at her where she stood. There was no chain tethering him to anything inside, which was a surprise to her. He was presumably under arrest, but other than the guard outside, there was no other evidence to that fact. 

As a knight, he stood and bowed to his queen. “Your Grace, I am honored by your visit,” he welcomed her rather formally. “I would offer you something to eat, but I am on rations now, as I am locked in my cell.” He swept his hand over the space. “Such as it is.”

Rhaella held her hand out, which he took a kissed. “Ser Jaime, I am surprised to see you here in the camp of your enemies. What has brought you here?”

He frowned at her words. “My enemies…my enemies. I did not know the family I serve has become my enemy. I guess I should not be surprised. I did kill the father of the man ultimately in charge of these troops.” He sat back down, not meeting her eyes. He did look ashamed, even if she was still not sure there was a reason.

“Well, if it is any comfort, despite all that has happened, I do not consider you an enemy,” she replied, kneeling down to look him in the eyes. Since he had been named to the Kingsguard, and so young at that, she had come to see him as a foster son. It was partly because he was the son of her dear friend, Joanna Lannister. She had left three children behind, and a bitter husband whose heart had grown cold from the lack of her presence. She had been one of the warmest people Rhaella had ever known. It was not until now that she realized how cold the man was without her. “You’ve been my faithful protector.”

“And it is my wish to continue to be so, your Grace,” Jaime said with such earnestness she could not doubt him. 

“From what I have heard, you have extended that protection, to the whole of King’s Landing.” It was a kind of a trap. Rhaella was not without wits and wanted to see how he reacted to such words.

“It was well known his love of wildfire,” Jaime said. “It has been his preferred method of execution and the court has known about it. But often, I was tasked with guarding him when he went to speak with the pyromancers. I never realized until then just how much of the stuff he had at his disposal.”

“You knew what his plan was then?” she asked. The queen had not thought he would be this forthcoming, but she began to see that he needed to unburden himself of the guilt he held with his knowledge of the wildfire.

“He...spoke of it often. He believed in the ensuing holocaust, he would arise as a dragon, I came to think,” Jaime explained. “Then after the prince left the city, I became aware that he had it being moved out of the storerooms I had seen it in. It was during that time I actually saw some of the locations it had been placed under.” The young Lannister held out his right hand and counted off with his fingers. “The Sept of Baelor. The Guildhall of the Alchemists. Flea Bottom. Cobbler’s Square. Fishmonger’s Square. Even in the Black Cells under the Red Keep. And so many tunnels connecting all those locations.”

“He intended to destroy the entire city,” she gasped out. 

He nodded. “When we were alerted that the Lannister forces were coming, I had the vague hope that whatever plans the prince had for dealing with Aerys, my father was there to shepherd it along.” He let out a mirthless laugh. ”But one does not use a lion to protect the sheep. I knew something was wrong when it was the Grand Maester who urged the king to open the gates to the Lannister host.”

That was a curious statement to her. “Why were you suspicious?”

“Because Pycelle has been in my father’s pockets since he was Hand to the King,” Jaime said, his voice taking on the horrible tone one would use to chastise a child. Rhaella knew she should be affronted, but could not bring herself to the feeling. “He and my father had worked in tandem for years. He was Tywin Lannister’s eyes and ears in the capital after my father left.”

For a moment, Rhaella wondered just how far the conspiracy Jaime referred to extended. But that was not her purpose now. “What exactly happened in the Throne Room?” she asked at last, fortifying herself for the answer.

Jaime looked her square in the eye as he described what had happened. “Once the gates were opened, over the objections of the rest of the Small Council, especially Lord Varys, word began to leak in what was really happening in the city streets. Aerys realized his ‘old friend’ Lord Tywin had betrayed him and began ranting and raving about it. He demanded I bring him my father’s head and then began ordering the pyromancers to set the fires.” The young knight looked lost, like a man double his age caught in the terrible memories of war. “First I killed the pyromancers, every one of them. Aerys...he kept ranting ‘burn them all, burn them all’. I climbed the steps to the Iron Throne and he continued. ‘Burn the all’. When I unsheath my sword, it was only then that he knew what was to happen. He tried to run but did not get far. I grabbed him...and sunk my sword into his soft flesh. And still, he yelled, ‘burn them all’. When he finally stopped, I sunk into the throne, the blood of a king on my sword. I knew I was no longer a good man, a fact that was confirmed to me when my father found me soon after, still sitting in the damn chair.”

Rhaella closed her eyes. A good wife, a loving wife, should have been appalled at the story she was just told. But Aerys had not been a good husband, a loving husband. He had not been a good brother for a for a long time. She did mourn, but for the brother she had grown up with, who had laughed and played with her in the gardens of the Red Keep. That boy became lost long ago and by the time he died, had been dead far longer.

“There are times in our lives when we must do what we know is wrong, that goes against all we have been taught,” she began. Her arm was around his shoulders and her hand on his cheek, pushing it gently toward her gaze. “It is a brave thing, for sure, to make such a choice.”

He offered her a weak smile. “Then by that reasoning, my Queen, for all these years, the Sworn Brothers of the Kingsguard have been doing wrong knowingly. They all stood aside while the abuse was heaped on you and your sons.”

A tear slipped down out of her eye. “Yes. They took it as the letter of the law. For that, I cannot fault them. But I cannot damn you for keeping to the spirit of the vow.” She stood up then, making her way to the tent flap. “There is to be a reckoning on you with my son’s councilors. I know where many of their sentiments will lie.”

“I should think that Lord Stark and Lord Stannis will want my head,” Jaime threw out sarcastically. 

“That is my guess as well,” she agreed. “But, it is only right that the condemned man have someone speak for him.” Now she smiled at him. “Know this, Ser Jaime Lannister. You will have someone to speak on your behalf. I shall be your champion.”

A sob broke out of him, unable to be controlled. She wanted to comfort him, but she was needed elsewhere now.

She hurried out of the tent and headed towards the one used by her son and his council. On her way there, Lyanna ran to her as best she could with her growing belly. “You spoke with Ser Jaime.” It was no question. “What will be his fate?”

That stopped Rhaella. From comments made earlier in the day, Rhaella knew what her good daughter’s feelings were on the matter of Ser Jaime and his broken vows. But she wanted confirmation. “What do you think his fate should be?” she asked bluntly.

Lyanna straightened to her full height. “What is one life compared to half a million? Is it right to kill a king to spare a city? Those are the questions you wish me to answer. Well, here is my answer. If it is the king who puts his subjects lives at risk to save his own skin, who thinks it right and just to revel in his madness, he has lost his crown in my eyes.”

“Even if it may one day be your own husband?” Rhaella had never seen an inkling of the Targaryen madness in Rhaegar. Still, Lyanna had answered her, but how far would she go?

Still holding her eyes to the Queen’s the answer came. “Even if it was my beloved.”

Rhaella nodded and took the girl in her arms for a moment. Then she stepped back and said, “There was a day I would not have thought my husband would be brought to this, but he fell. I pray to the Old Gods and the New you never have to experience this moment yourself, sweetling.”

 

Ned looked across the table where his good brother sat and felt sorry for him. The prince looked like he was ready to take his own life over the question of what to do with Jaime Lannister’s.

Ned had his opinions. The son of Tywin Lannister had broken a sacred oath, the first commandment of his brotherhood. By that alone, he should be on the executioner’s block. That was what Ned himself argued originally, supported by Stannis Baratheon and Lord Commander Gerold Hightower. Rhaegar’s cousin was more beholden to the law than even Ned and he was giving no ground on the matter, while the Lord Commander knew the stain that had sullied the order because of Ser Jaime’s actions.

It was the greatest irony to Ned that Oberyn Martell was arguing against punishing Lannister. The man had lost his sister, niece and nephew to the destruction wrought by Lord Tywin, yet he did not blame the boy. “We have notions in our heads when we are young,” Oberyn said, “that what seems obviously right is so. It seems that young Lannister believed it was right to kill the king if it saved the lives of the people in the capital. He is not wrong, is he, Prince Rhaegar?”

Olenna nodded in agreement, and even Jon looked to be leaning in that direction. Yet Ned could not bring himself to agree. He broke a vow, to protect his king. To Ned, that was enough.

He was about to voice that sentiment when Queen Rhaella and Lyanna joined them suddenly. All attending rose from their seats, surprised to see them there. All except Rhaegar. “You’ve been to see him, I assume?”

“I have, my son,” his mother replied.

“And you have your own view on the matter, I take it?” He looked around his mother to see Lyanna there. “And you most likely agree with her. Am I correct, my love?”

“You are correct. The Queen has my full support in this debate,” his sister said, never yielding even her stance.

“Then let us hear you out, your Graces,” Jon said.

Rhaella walked around the tent, looking each councilor in the eye until she came upon her son. “The night I gave birth to you, my beloved boy, a terrible fire broke out where our family was all staying,” she began.

Rhaegar nodded solemnly. “Summerhall,” he said, almost in a whisper.

“Yes, Summerhall. Where the whole of the Targaryen family had gathered. And as the fire grew, I became more and more afraid that neither you nor I would live to see the sunrise. And then, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard burst into the room and put you in my arms as he lifted me from the bed. I asked him where the king was, but he said his first duty was to ensure the royal line continues. I said his first duty was to ensure the safety of his king. I even tried to climb out of his arms and make him go to my grandfather.” Ned heard the emotions churning in her as she told her tale, but she was refusing to succumb to them. She took a moment and regrouped. “He got me to safety. ‘I was a knight long before I was a brother of the Kingsguard, before I became the Lord Commander. The first part of my vow is to defend those who cannot defend themselves. The second part of my vow is to protect all women and children,’ he said. ‘I have just fulfilled my vows, your Grace, to see to the defense of those who are defenseless, to protect women and children.’ He went back in to be at his king’s side, and never returned.”

Ned understood the meaning of her story. “As a Kingsguard, his first duty was to protect the king,” he stated, to which she nodded.

“Yes, but he knew that there were those who caught in the flames who were unable to save themselves.” She looked at her son, a sad smile upon her face. “Such as a recently birthed babe and his mother, still abed.” Then she directed her attention to all the others there. “Would you condemn a man as an oathbreaker in such a case? He upheld one vow at the expense of another, one that some would say was the far more important-the life of a king over the life of a newborn child.”

The space they had all gathered in remained silent as a tomb, as the uncomfortable truth revealed itself. It was Lyanna who broke the spell. She went over to her husband and crouched as best she could in front of him. “Five hundred thousand people, guilty of nothing but where they made their lives, to be slaughtered or one man who was lost for so long. If you were in Jaime’s place, which would you chose?”

Ned saw the answer on the Crown Prince’s face before he said anything. “There was a part of me that wanted Aerys to live. I had a dim hope that, without the pressures of the kingdom upon him, he would gain some semblance of himself back,” Rhaegar told her, as the gathering heard as well. 

Now it was Rhaella who stood beside her son. She leaned his head on her bulging stomach, petting his silver hair. “My son, there was nothing to be done to get him back. It was at Summerhall his mind began to fly, seeing the flames engulf the palace. He said to me later, from that tragedy, he knew his end would come by fire. And when Tywin breached the walls of the city, he did his best to make sure the fire would engulf him, as it did those close to him.” Then she spoke in his ear, something only Lyanna probably was privy to.

After the moment past, Rhaegar stood, and with him, those gathered. “Lord Commander Hightower, please bring Ser Jaime Lannister to me. And see to it that the remainder of your brothers is present as well.”

The Lord Commander did as ordered. When he left, however, Stannis did not try to hide his disgust. “If you were in his place, my Prince, would you have ended the life of your Lord Father?” he asked with a sneer.

“If I were in my Lord Father’s place, I would hope some brave person would end my life to save those of my people, Lord Stannis,” he said without a moment’s hesitation. Then he walked over to Ned. He whispered a request in his ear, something that surprised the Lord of Winterfell. But he nodded, agreeing to the request.

Gerold Hightower returned, Jaime Lannister cuffed and being led by a chain. Behind him were Ser Arthur, Ser Oswell and Ser Barristan. “Ser Jaime Lannister, as ordered, Your Grace,” the Lord Commander announced.

The makeshift court turned to look at the prisoner as Rhaegar returned to stand between his wife and his mother. At his signal, Eddard Stark began intoning, “His Grace, Rhaegar, First of his Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm charges Ser Jaime of House Lannister with the crimes of regicide and of breaking his sacred vows as a Brother of the Kingsguard. Ser Jaime, how do you plead?”

The lad had the audacity to smirk at the court. “Well, as I have been admitting I did the crime since I was discovered by Lord Tywin Lannister, I should plead guilty, don’t you think?”

Ned was shocked by the man’s attitude. His head was mere words away from the block, yet he was jesting and mocking the proceedings. But when he turned to see Rhaegar’s reaction, there appeared to be the faintest hint of a smile. “Ser Jaime, before I pass sentence on your crimes, I have a question for you. What do you want?”

Jaime was caught off-guard. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard what you asked,” he said, trying to maintain the air of aloofness.

“It is a simple question,” Rhaegar explained. “I asked you what you wanted.”

“Well,” he answered after a moment, “I would like to live, but I doubt that’s in the card for me.”

“That is is, just to live?”

“Yes,” he said, his voice, however, unsure. “If I am spared, then my Lord Father will certainly gain his heir back, wouldn’t he, your Grace?”

“So you wish to be returned to your place as the heir to Casterly Rock?” Rhaegar actually chuckled at that. “I remember you telling me shortly after Harrenhal you were actually glad when my father named you to the Kingsguard. ‘Never will I have to deal with the issues the lord of a great house has to face. I never had a head for it anyway. No matter what Tywin thinks, Tyrion will make a finer Lord of the Rock than I ever would.’ I believe those were your words.”

“If I live, what else is there for me? None of my ‘brothers’ trust me anymore.” He sent a sneering look at the other Kingsguard. “I will very likely carry the moniker Kingslayer for the rest of my days. Yes, Lord Kingslayer. Has a ring to it,” he laughed but it was devoid of humor. 

“Do you wish to remain as a Sworn Brother of the Kingsguard?” At the question, Jaime turned to look at Rhaella. He could not seem to form any response until Rhaegar prompted him. “Do you want to continue to protect, as you vowed to?”

“I...I didn’t…” He looked near tears at the questions he was being peppered with. “I didn’t do such a good job of it when I was a Kingsguard. I...I was unable to protect a woman from the abuse heaped upon her by her husband. I was forced to stand by and listen to her screams, even as every instinct in me wanted to run to her rescue.”

Jaime wasn’t looking at anyone, his eyes trained to the ground as Rhaegar stepped closer to him. When he was finally at an arm’s length, the prince placed his fingers under the boy’s cheek. “I wished to do the same, protect a woman I loved from the cruelty she suffered at the hands of my father. But he is now dead. He can no longer harm her, or her children, or his people. She still thinks you can guard her. Can you, Ser Jaime?”

Now the Golden Lion looked to the Queen and back to Prince Rhaegar. “Yes, my Prince. I can and do want to still serve...but I think we can all agree, I have lost the privilege of wearing the white cloak.”

Rhaegar raised his chin, adopting a pensive look. “If you become her sworn shield, then you would still be able to be your father’s heir.” At that, the boy gave a look of disgust. 

“As you remember correctly, I did say Tyrion would make a fine lord. Finer even than our father,” Jaime said, as a smile slipped onto his face. “I would swear to you and sign away any claim I would have on Casterly Rock if that need be the case. There must be some measures that can in place to ensure that Tyrion becomes my father’s heir. surely?”

“Tywin Lannister will do whatever he can to get what he wants,” Jon noted, “and he has wanted you to become Lord of Casterly Rock after him. Aerys took you as payment for, in his view, overreaching to make your sister queen.” 

“I can have a royal decree drafted to ensure your brother becomes lord. It could be enough to slow Tywin down for the time being,” Rhaegar suggested. When Jaime nodded in agreement, the prince replied, “Then kneel, Ser Jaime of House Lannister.” He did as ordered, as Rhaegar intoned, “Now, do you vow to protect the queen from harm or threat, provide the same protection to her son and child-to-be, follow orders from her, keep her secrets and protect her name and honor?”

“I swear it,” he answered solemnly.

“Arise, Ser Jaime Lannister…Knight of the Realm.”

As he rose to his feet, Jaime turned to Queen Rhaella. Now, he knelt before her, laying his sword down at her feet. “Queen Rhaella of House Targaryen, I offer my services, to you and your young children. I will shield your back and keep your counsel. I will give my life for yours if need be. I swear it, by the Old Gods and the New.”

The Queen smiled demurely when she placed her hand on her belly, and with a nod of her head, repeat the answer. “And, on behalf of my young children as well as myself, I vow that you shall always have a place by my hearth, and meat and mead at my table. I pledge to ask no service of you that will bring you dishonor. I swear it, by the Old Gods and the New.”

Ned looked around at everyone there. Stannis still did not seem pleased and Jon looked to be holding his breath, but there was no protest, not even from Ser Barristan. In fact, Arthur Dayne actually looked pleased by the turn of events.

Ned stopped him before he left the tent. “Ser Arthur,” he called, stopping the Sword of the Morning, “Were you aware that his Grace would be forgiving Ser Jaime of his crimes, of killing the King?”

The knight’s violet eyes danced with a muted glee. “I was not told that would be what the prince would do, but neither am I surprised by it.” Now the eyes seemed to age before Ned. The man took on an eerie presence as if he had an unnatural amount of knowledge. “Lord Eddard, we are all flawed. That is the nature of people. There are times that we must besmirch ourselves, even dishonor our most sacred beliefs, in order to do the right thing. We may face a situation where we must kill in order to live, lie, in order to tell the truth. Jaime Lannister saw what a privilege it was to wear the white cloak when it was given to him. He is still worthy to be called a knight.” The Sword of the Morning looked back at the scene of Rhaella and Lannister. “I knighted the boy myself and I know he will keep his promise that he will never accept the lordship. Tywin’s schemes have failed him. He did not get his daughter the prince she desired, it did not give him the alliance he was working towards. It has sided him with a usurper, and it has lost him his favorite son, even if he is not yet aware of that. Jaime has committed crimes, no one will deny that, but right now, I think it best we focus on far more evil sins.” Silently, Ser Arthur looked to the Red Keep, with Ned following his gaze. “We will soon have to face them, the ones who have perpetrated far worse crimes. I think it best we prepare ourselves for that now.”

As Dayne walked away, Ned Star could not find it in himself to argue with the other man.


	18. Where You Stand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and Jaime talk when the bells ring out, announcing a royal marriage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a little Christmas gift to my loyal readers. And a shoutout to GreedofRage, for all his help in working through, not just this chapter, but the story overall.

Ser Arthur Dayne had watched Jaime Lannister since he had been brought to the siege camp.  Then, he had been a man who had brought dishonor on their order, killed the king he was sworn to serve.  There had been little chance, the Sword of the Morning thought, that he’d survive, to say nothing of redeeming himself, in a fashion.  Now, he was a brother again, a Knight of the Kingsguard, and sworn shield to Queen Rhaella and her young son. It had been an incredible road the lad had traveled since named to the order.

 

When he had been made a Kingsguard, it was a surprise, to be sure  He was son and heir to Lord Tywin Lannister. It was easy to figure it was the king’s way of getting back at his old friend’s audaciousness but Jaime had not.  He took it truly as an honor. He was obedient and loyal, even, from what Rhaegar said, wanting to ride with him to the Trident when the Crown Prince departed North to face the Stark, Arryn, Tully and Baratheon forces.  It was Rhaegar to told him to stay behind and protect Elia and her children. Arthur knew Jaime would do as told, for he was just as much a hostage against the Warden of the West as the Princess was with Dorne. It was Aerys who had ordered Lannister to the Throne Room, not alongside Prince Lewyn and his niece and children.  It was there that Jaime Lannister paid the greatest price for his loyalty and obedience. 

 

Everyone at court knew how mad Aerys was.  How he liked to burn prisoners, enemies and even those loyal to him, alive.  The seven men were all sworn, however, to obey him, as he was there king. So it was a shock to hear that Jaime had killed the king.  He was young and idealistic, but no one would have pegged him as a kingslayer. There had to be more to the story of what happened, that had been Arthur’s first impression.

 

It had proven true.  The Mad King had died with his title earned, having planned on blowing up the city with wildfire.  Had Jaime Lannister not ended him, the worst would have happened. He saved the city. The only cost had been his vow as a Kingsguard.

 

But there was still honor there, however.  He had turned his back on his family, on a father who had murdered innocent women and children, on a sister who no good word had ever been spoken about...to seek forgiveness from a wife and son for killing their husband and father.

 

That was what he thought as he stood back and watched Jaime instruct young Viserys on his footwork in sparring.  The boy’s violet eyes danced along with Jaime’s steps and he tried to mimic a swordsman of young Lannister’s caliber.

 

Jaime saw him standing there.  “Why don’t you go show your brother what we worked on.  I’m sure he’ll be impressed with how far you’ve progressed.

 

Vis saw Arthur offer him a smile.  “And your lady mother wanted me to tell you the cook made a lemon cake just for you,” he told the boy.  There was no response, just a trail of dust in the direction he ran.

 

“It amazes me how different the boy is,” Jaime said.  “When he was still in the capital, his father had him by his side frequently.  He’d often try to hide when...executions were taking place.”

 

“Rhaegar expressed similar concerns,” Arthur said.  “That he was becoming cold and nasty, but her Grace said that once they were out of the king’s influence, the joyous boy began to reemerge.”  Then he turned to Ser Jaime. “And I see another person who seemed lost has returned.”

 

Jaime merely flicked his eyes up.  “I was never lost, Arthur. Believe me, I knew each and every hell I was in.”

 

“Is that why you did it?  Hoping to escape?”

 

Jaime started to walk away with Arthur following him, waiting for an answer.  When they got back to their tent and finding it empty, Jaime broke the silence.  “There’s a baker on the Street of Flour. He makes the most wonderous rolls. I have no idea, but no matter the time of day you get there, they are still as hot as if they had just come off the hearth.”  He sat in a chair and looked down at the ground. “I’ve gone there at least once a week since I arrived in King’s Landing and he has never disappointed me that the roll would be cold. As I heard Aerys plan out how best to blow the city, all I could think of was that baker.  How he’d probably never give me a stale piece of bread ever again if the king succeeded. How strange to think of something as mundane as warm bread when hearing about that scale of destruction. I didn’t even think about my father, just some baker I have never known the name of.”

 

At the mention of his father, Arthur wondered something and asked Jaime about it.  “Does your father know you’re here? That you escaped the city?

 

Jaime gave him an incredulous look.  “Are you mad? He’d have the whole of the Lannister army at the door of my chambers if he caught a whiff of me leaving.  No, Varys helped me. He sensed my...difficulty dealing with all that has happened. Even said his little birds heard me pray for forgiveness.”

 

“Sounds as though the gods heard you,” Arthur commented.

 

The younger knight shook his head.  “I am still amazed...I didn’t think...I thought I’d be going to the block.  But I heard Queen Rhaella was here and I had to explain what happened to her.  She, more than anyone, deserved to hear my confession” He chuckled at that. “Tywin Lannister always says, the lion does not concern himself with the opinions of the sheep.  The dragon, however…”

 

“Princess Lyanna also spoke in your favor,” Arthur informed him.  “When we first arrived here and heard that the king was dead by your hand, Lord Hightower told us of meetings he had with those in the Red Keep.  She was the first to point out that your actions, however in contrivance with your first duty, saved thousands of lives. That your actions were those of a knight who swore to protect the innocent, women, children.”

 

Now the familiar smirk was on Jaime’s face once more.  “Princess Lyanna. That I still cannot believe. How did the Faith stomach that, Rhaegar with two wives?”

 

It took a little bit of time, but Arthur explained everything to Jaime.  Rhaegar had deemed him too green to be let in on many of the plans, especially when the decision was made to meet Lyanna in the Riverlands and leave together.  “Oswell and I were witnesses when they married. And before you think that unlikely, Elia was fine with it. All she was concerned with was the safety of her children in King’s Landing.  She was supposed to have traveled to Sunspear.”

 

Jaime probably knew that.   “Aerys wouldn’t let her leave.  As much as he loathed her, she was just as effective of a hostage as I was.”  Then Jaime went pale. “And because of that, my father…” He sucked in a breath.  “Ser Gregor Clegane. They call him the Mountain that Rides. He was most likely the one my father let run rampant.  And what was done to Elia, that is his style.”

 

Arthur nodded, keeping that piece of information in the back of his mind.  “Jaime it was not your fault, what happened to Elia, Rhaenys and Aegon. You could not know the extent of what would happen.”

 

“My father has always desired the throne.  He wanted to make Cersei a queen from the moment we were born,” Jaime spat out.  “Why do you think he held his armies back? He most likely hoped for a rebel victory, probably even the death of the Crown Prince.  Then he’d swoop in and join up the Westerlands with the North, the Vale and Robert Baratheon.”

 

“That is quite possible,”  the Sword of the Morning replied.  “We also have Lyanna to thank for that never happening.  She was insistent that she travel North with us. She feels terrible guilt for all that has happened, for the fate of her father and brother.  I like to think that the gods blessed us so far because she refused to stay put.”

 

“Stubborn?”  An eyebrow rose with the question.

 

“That is putting it mildly,” Arthur laughed.  “She’s fierce, like the direwolf of her house.  She insisted we train her with a sword. Even managed to knock Oswell on his ass a few times.”  But then his smile softened. “But there’s a gentleness to her. I saw her interact with the smallfolk in Dorne and on our way here.  She has a caring heart, one that can only help the people of the Seven Kingdoms when this is over. And Rhaegar, he is a different person when she is around.  It seems the gods fashioned them for each other, for their love.”

 

There was a haunted look in Jaime’s eyes.  “Unlike my sister,” Arthur heard.

 

“They faced off against each other, Lyanna and Cersei.  While I wouldn’t say the lioness was cowering before her, the she-wolf more than held her own.”  Arthur was looking straight ahead but slid his eyes to Jaime. The man’s disposition changed at the mention of Cersei Lannister.

 

Jaime seemed to wave it off a moment later.  “Did you hear that Father planned for me to marry Lady Lyanna?”

 

Arthur had heard, of course.  Word did get around the camp about that and he had heard it from the Prince himself.  “I heard tell of it,” was all he answered.

 

“I can’t picture it,” Jaime admitted.  “Not that she isn’t a beauty and, from what you have said, very spirited.  I just can’t see Tywin Lannister tolerating a personality such as hers. Cersei shares some of those traits and Father has spent our lives trying to crush them and make her into something she will never be.  My mother.” After saying that, Jaime stood. “I should get back to her Grace and Prince Viserys. I think he’s liable to get into trouble if not watched carefully.”

 

But as he left the tent, the sound of bells filled the air.  They echoed near and far, but their origin was from King’s Landing, from the Great Sept of Baelor.  “What…?” Arthur whispered. “Why are the bells tolling?”

 

He looked back at Jaime, who had a grim expression on his face.  “I would wager, it is because my sister and father have gotten what they have both always craved.”  Arthur didn’t need further explanation, but young Lannister provided it anyway. “She is married to Robert Baratheon and been crowned Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.”

  
  


It was early when her handmaiden woke her, and she wished to the gods she could have the woman executed for that.  The dreaded day had come and Tywin Lannister had placed Ser Gregor Clegane outside her door to ensure that she stayed there in preparation for her wedding.  Her father had been wroth to discover that Jaime had managed to escape both the Red Keep and the city, and he was gods’ knows where now. Though, rather conveniently, Lord Varys had reported rumors that her twin, unable to take the shadow that had been cast over him, had fled into the night out Blackwater Bay and was headed to Essos.  Cersei thought that unlikely. 

 

He had barely spoken to her since her arrival in King’s Landing.  And any words out of his mouth were more jape than anything else. But what concerned her more was his coldness in their bed.  Since they had first made love, she had found her completeness in him. They truly were two halves of one soul. But he had left her that morning in a queer mood.  He had demeaned himself, referring to the nickname his brave action had garnered him, How many fools did not see that Jaime had saved the city from being burned up in wildfire?

 

It also troubled her to not be disgusted by the idea Father had tried to set in motion, or him marrying Lyanna Stark.  What was it about the girl that attracted men to her like flies to honey? Jaime’s interest was at least piqued, Robert was still obsessed with the idea of her and Rhaegar…

 

Just thinking of the Silver Prince and the barbarian Northerner left Cersei wanting to drown in the bathing pool.

 

But the handmaidens watched her like a hawk, lathering her hair, scrubbing her body, so it was shiny and bright for the whoremonger to fuck later on.

 

She was being laced into her gown when the doors to her chambers in the Maidenvault flung open.  Her father’s green eyes were like living wildfire, his fury greater than she had ever seen. “What did I do that the gods should punish me with such sons?” he growled out.

 

He must have had word on Jaime.  “What is it Father?” she asked, trying to hide the anxiety in her voice.

 

“Varys should be on the block for this!  I knew, at the least, my heir would never scurry off to the east, but this!”  He paced back and forth in front o her. “I have my own spies in the camps outside the city.  And they report that Jaime went straight to the Prince’s tent after he left the city.”

 

“Jaime is with them?”  Now she could not hide her fear.  Her brother, who had killed the king, must be a prisoner now for the Prince’s forces!

 

“Aye, he is with them.  And I have heard tell that while he may not still be a Kingsguard, he has become a sworn shield to Rhaella Targaryen!”

 

Cersei could not believe what her father was saying.  How could Jamie do such a thing? Betray her? Betray their house...for what?  But her pondering stopped when an idea seized her. “Father, let me go to him, bring him back to us.  Surely he knows he made a mistake. I can talk to him, I can convince him…”

 

Her plea was cut off by the coldest laugh she had ever heard.  “You are not as clever as you think, my daughter. You think me a fool to let out you of my sight?  No, I will not believe that your brother has turned his back on his family. Not completely at least.” Tywin pondered in silence. “I will think of something, but for now, we need to focus on the wedding.  You will still wed Robert today and be bedded by him tonight. You will be Queen and give him sons before the night is over.”

 

She stood to answer his commands, but he left her, bolting the door to her chambers behind him.  A Myrish vase followed his path.

 

The door did not open again until her father came to collect her for the drive to the sept.  It was cold comfort that there were few there to witness this wretched ceremony, but it mattered little.  The gods would watch them become man and wife in a sacred bond that would only be broken by death. 

 

When they walked inside, both Lannisters were surprised to not see the High Septon standing between the Father and the Mother, but an underling, a member of the Most Devout.  One of the septas who stood near the door must have noticed their looks. “The High Septon has been away for an extended time, doing a study of godswoods in the south. He sends his regrets, but Septon Griswel is a fine soul and may one day find himself speaking for the gods.”

 

There was small satisfaction for Cersei that Tywin Lannister’s pride had been pricked again, with even the man of the highest office of the Faith of the Seven not even in attendance for the ‘royal wedding’.  She wanted to say so, but her father grasped her arm harder, a stern and solemn set to his face, and led her down the steps to the altar.

 

Robert Baratheon stood there, bedecked in silks and leathers of black and yellow, the colors of Lord of Storm’s End.  Upon his head sat a golden crown, shaped as the antlers of a stag. But his face was red and he squinted at her, probably trying to bring her into focus.  She was certain he would have gotten roaring drunk last night, as she had drunk a bottle of Arbor Gold in her chambers. Eventually, a smile came to his lips.  He must have noticed her dress, the finest gold and crimson satin which fit tight on her narrow waist and with a neckline that was diving dangerously between her breasts.

 

When they arrived, he nodded to her.  “My Lady, I must say, it is an honor to be joined in marriage to such a...worthy lady,” he tried to charm her.

 

“Yes, you are fortunate, my Lord,” was her tart reply.  

 

The Septon cleared his throat and the small gathering gave him their attention.  “You may now cloak the bride and bring her into your protection,” he said.  _ More like the Lannisters protecting his ass from the armies ready to tear us to pieces _ , Cersei thought as the cloak was slipped onto her shoulders.

 

Then out came a narrow piece of silk.  “If you will follow me?” he asked as he began to recite the vows.

 

“Father, Smith, Warrior.  Mother, Maiden, Crone. Stranger.  I am his and he is mine,” Cersei repeated with her eyes closed.  If she must make vows, she would imagine it was to Rhaegar Targaryen, the Silver Prince, and not his oafish drunkard of a cousin.  But it was over after that, after the none-too-gentle kiss he graced her with. His tongue shoved itself into her mouth, slobbering over her lips.  She pulled back at last and gave him a nasty glare, but he did seem to notice.

 

Tywin was too busy congratulating Robert to even notice her.  A few of the lords of the Stormlands who rode with Robert from the Trident, Lord Trant, Lord Estermont, Lord Mertyn and Lord Wagstaff offer their best wishes, but even they looked like they’d wish to be elsewhere.

 

And it did not go unnoticed, by Cersei or Tywin, that a number of the Great Houses weren’t even there.  Connington, well, Rhaegar’s fool of a friend had scurried to Essos to escape the fate of those who failed Aerys.  Selmy, likely because Ser Barristan was one of the most loyal of Rhaegar’s Kingsguard. Lonmouth, another friend of the Prince’s.  And Tarth? Tarth, who didn’t march with Robert because of a storm in the straits between the island and the mainland. At least the others had loyalty to excuse them, but Tarth’s reasoning was ridiculous.  

 

But as the new couple stepped out the doors of the sept and headed back to the feast at the Red Keep, the bells above them peeled with a joyfulness no one actually felt.  There were few smiles as they made their way down the stairs and into the carriage. Then, once the door closed, Robert clamped his large hand onto her knee and made its way up between her thighs.  

 

“Robert!” she shouted, trying to dislodge him from her.  But then he maneuvered his body on top of hers, sneaking the hand he laid on her under her skirts and to her smallclothes.  “We are married! It is my right as a husband,” he told her, his words slightly slurred.

 

“We must wait,” she responded, a note of panic in her voice.  “We have a feast to host. What will your banners think if I emerge from here...unkempt?”

 

He answered by sucking at her lips for too long a moment.  Then he pulled back. “You...do make a fine point. But let’s leave it early for the bedding ceremony.  I want to see if you taste like the honey your hair is colored.”

 

They arrived back at the Red Keep and despite the fact that they were under siege, it seemed that they were able to throw together a feast to celebrate the marriage.  There looked to be a good deal of merriment going for the celebration, but Cersei quickly learned it was all artificial.

 

She had been accosted by Lady Heston, who chattered nonstop about how “lovely the wedding was.  And you are two so fitted for each other. I was telling Lady Tudbury, Tywin was a fool to think of marrying his daughter into the Targaryens, lot of madmen, they are.”

 

It was somewhere along the way, as she prattled on, that another conversation caught Cersei’s attention.  “This is madness! To be standing here, bowing and scraping to usurpers. And it is the height of hypocrisy, in my opinion, that Robert forgets he shares blood with Aerys and Rhaegar,” said Lord Swann in hushed tones.  “But Tywin was determined to rule once more, and now, he will, for certain.”

 

“I could never see Robert with the Lady Lyanna,” Lord Peasebury sniffed.  “She was far too wild and a barbarian! The only family, my late mother was wont to say, that had any civility in the North was the Manderly’s.”

 

“It had been Lord Stark’s plan to marry Lyanna to the Prince,” a third, Lord Horpe chimed in.  “Only for the fact that Robert met the Stark girl because of his fostering alongside her brother Eddard, was the betrothal ever set.  He intended to collect on at deal his ancestor was said to have made during the Dance of Dragons.”

 

“And now I fear what will happen when they retake the city,” Lord Swann replied.  “We could all have our heads on pikes for being here, should the King retake the capital.  Say what you will about Stannis, but he understood the mistake that was being made by not hearing King Rhaegar out!”

 

“Excuse me, my Lady, but I need to speak with someone...else,” Cersei interrupted, walking away while the older woman still flapped her lips.  She made her way over to the three Lords. “My Lords,” she announced her presence with, “it is such a great pleasure to have you here. As I am sure the King is pleased with your company as well.”

 

All three startled at her approach.  “My...my...your Grace!” Lord Horpe sputtered.  “Well, you are just the picture of a blushing bride!” he tried to recover.

 

“Robert has truly…struck gold with the match,” Lord Swann added, to which Lord Peasebury merely raised his glass too.

 

“Yes, I am sure.  And I am sure my royal husband is grateful for all the support you have given him in this struggle against the madness of the Targaryens,” Cersei said, but could not keep the sweetness in her voice.  “I shall be sure to tell him of all your well-wishes.” She did not give them time to reply, sweeping herself away to where Robert was sitting, his fourth goblet of wine in hand.

 

She was disgusted by the slob.  And it had not gone unnoticed by her that e had felt up or fondled every serving wench and even a number of ladies during the course of the feast.  Silently, she cursed her father for chaining her to such a man. He was a drunk, a whoremonger and a usurper.

 

But Robert had won the Iron Throne by right of conquest.  And she suspected that the only thing that may save his reign was the drop of Valyrian blood within him.  Before she reached the High Table, she grabbed a cup of wine, drinking it quickly. She would need it to fortify herself for what she was about to do.

 

“My lord husband, you said you were looking forward to our bedding.  The hour is late, and the drink flowing. I think it best to commence with the ceremony before our lords and ladies tire from the events of the day,” she whispered in his ear, cloaking her voice in a veil of sweetness.

 

But Cersei Lannister knew how the game was played.  There were rules for all to follow, knights and lords, men and women.  And she knew that Lyanna Stark carried an heir to the kingdom. She was determined that, by the morn, she too would have a rival to ensure the future she and Robert had been thrown together to build.

 


	19. Family Entanglements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhaella and Lady Olenna talk families and the future. Rhaegar has a request of his cousin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry about that mix-up! But, here is the correct next chapter. I hope you all enjoy.

Sieges were dull, Olenna Tyrell decided, and there was precious little that could be done to alleviate the boredom of one. She had never been one to sit around, embroidering roses, or taking tea with other ladies. She generally found them boring as well. The one saving grace of her situation was the fact that there were not one, but two ladies with as sharp of wits as she was.

And, when the voice of Ser Jaime Lannister called her in the morning, she was relieved to be asked to join the company of both of them. Tywin Lannister’s firstborn son had become Queen Mother Rhaella’s sworn shield and he brought the invitation to her.

“I have been meaning to have a talk with Her Grace. Compliment her on her son’s taste in women. I sometimes wish Mace had chosen so well,” she lamented as they walked to the royal pavilion. Alerie wasn’t a bad choice, but Luthor was insistent his son marry a Hightower, though Olenna never understood why. She still held out hope that they would bless her with a little girl, one Olenna was determined to mold into a force to be reckoned with. In short, she wanted an Olenna Tyrell for future generations.

“While I would agree with your, my lady, the Princess Elia was not so wilting a flower as was supposed,” Jaime commented somberly. “She wielded her own brand of charm and cunning.”

Olenna had a natural suspicion of the Martells, but even she was disgusted to hear of the grim fate of Elia Martell and her children. But it led her to ask, “What was your father thinking to allow such an atrocity? Did he not think of the Dornish reaction?”

“My Lady, I gave up on what my father thinks when my brother was born,” he replied sadly. 

She had heard of the dwarf born to the Lord of Casterly Rock. “Is he so hideous? Your brother?”

The young Kingsguard looked particularly affronted to that question. “It is true he is short in stature. But I tell you, my lady, he should not be one to underestimate. Good things come in little packages, as you well know.”

She smirked at that as they arrived at Queen Rhaella’s tent. Oswell Whent was already positioned at the entrance, so she knew that Lyanna was most likely within as well. He lifted the flap and Olenna entered. As expected, Lyanna Stark was there, along with young Prince Viserys. He turned to see her come in, his violet eyes wide. “My lady, you are old!”

“Viserys!” his mother cried out in shock. “That was very rude.”

“But it’s true,” he answered. “She’s the oldest lady I have ever seen.”

“Even so, Vis, it’s not polite to comment on it,” Lyanna admonished gently.

From the corner of her eye, Olenna saw Lannister trying to suppress a smirk. He composed himself by saying to the young prince, “Why don’t you and I do some sparring? I doubt you want to hear some boring grown-up talk do you?”

The boy brightened and was out of the tent in a flash, with Jaime bowing before making his exit.

Now alone with the Queen and the Princess, Olenna herself curtsied before the royals, telling the pair, “He has a good head on his shoulders, young Lannister. I am actually quite happy to see it is still there.”

She saw the look Rhaella threw over Olenna’s shoulder to the man in question but said nothing until it was the three of them. “I have heard the tales of your journey with my good-daughter from Dorne, Lady Olenna. You have my thanks and the thanks of House Targaryen for seeing her safely delivered to her husband. I am sure that House Stark also extends their appreciation to you, as well,” Rhaella said, with a nod to Lyanna.

“Yes, and on behalf of my brother, if he has been remiss in his appreciation, let me extend it,” Lyanna added. “And from me personally, I very much enjoyed our travels together. If I can be half the woman you are, my lady, then I will have led a full life, I’d say.”

“I will say, I am not one who enjoys either long journeys or the company one can keep on them, but Lady...excuse me, Princess Lyanna is rather a breath of fresh air, even to a wizen old creature such as myself. You think you have seen everything in life, and then the gods show you something remarkable.” And it was not false compliments. Lyanna had very much endeared herself to Olenna, telling tales of growing up in the North and her antics at Harrenhal. If only Mace were a few years younger and Lady Lyanna had been a few years older, she might have sought out Rickard Stark on behalf of the Tyrells! “She had almost seemed too good to be true, for her to be our future queen. And seeing her with Prince Rhaegar, they fit well together indeed.”

“He is the fire to my ice, my lady,” Lyanna said enigmatically. It had been a phrase she had repeated on and off along the way. Of course, it made some sense, with ‘Fire and Blood’ and ‘Winter is Coming’ being the words of their houses. And there was the Pact of Ice and Fire that had finally been reconciled. But Olenna had sensed a deeper meaning to the words, though she never chose to ask about them.

“I also wish to express my appreciation to your house’s loyalty to us. It was a blessing that you were able to speak with Lord Arryn and Lord Stark and bringing them to see the truth,” Rhaella added.

“You are welcome, your Grace. But I will say, I was not surprised Lord Baratheon chose not to meet. We may all be enjoying the view of the Blackwater if that was so,” Olenna said.

“It saddens me greatly that Steffon’s son is so obstinate. He did not take his parent’s death well and there is most likely lingering anger at my...late husband for his assigning such a task to our cousin,” the Queen remarked. While Olenna had little doubt of her words, she didn’t sound all that sad at the choices of Robert Baratheon. Not a good word could be said of the manchild, from what Olenna had learned. 

They danced around a variety of topics for a little while longer, Olenna telling the Queen some outrageous stories from the road to the Trident. She smiled with approval that neither Lyanna looked embarrassed nor Rhaella perturbed of hearing them. She supposed the presence of the Kingsguard was somewhat of an assurance that everyone kept their dignity and honor.

Just then, Ser Arthur Dayne poked his head in. “Your Graces, my lady.” He acknowledged all the women in the tent before turning to Lyanna. “Princess, his Grace is looking for you. He asked me to see if you could accompany him while he spoke with some of the Lords.” Lyanna only turned to Rhaella, who nodded her approval to leave them.

Olenna thought it was for the best, considering the topic that had not been brought up since the Queen had arrived at King’s Landing. It was a conversation Olenna was prepared for. “Now, your Grace, I am sure you did not invite me to break my fast with you to hear of my misadventures on the road with Princess Lyanna and her Kingsguard.” It was a blunt statement, but one she was sure the former Queen of the Seven Kingdoms was expecting from the Queen of Thornes.

“There are times, my lady, that I regret never having you as family. My uncle Daeron should have seen the jewel that you are,” Rhaella replied with a smile.

“Who said he was the one who ended it?” Olenna snapped back, failing to suppress a smirk. 

The Queen merely inclined her head. “In spite of the fact that there has been little bloodshed thanks to my good-daughter’s stubborn refusal to heed her husband’s wishes, there are still issues within the realm. But let us be frank. I can assume you will be wanting some token for all the good you have done these past few months?”

Always a sharp one, Queen Rhaella was. The thought made Olenna smile. She could appreciate such a masquerade, the demure, obedient wife one moment, the proud, deliberate queen in the next. “Given that House Tyrell has kept its loyalty to the right Targaryen, one would think that such actions do not go unrewarded. It was something that crossed my mind the night I joined this party. When the princess told me her suspicions of being with child,” she began.

The Queen figured out what it was she was speaking to. “You want a Tyrell to wed Lyanna’s son.” It was a statement, one that she added to with a jape. “If you wished to put a descendant of yours on the Iron Throne, you did have an excellent opportunity when you were younger.” 

Olenna nodded. “A descendant, yes, I do want one. I just couldn’t think I would personally be able to put up with all issues that go with marrying a Targaryen. But you are right, that ship sailed long ago. And I did have it in mind to propose a union between their son and any granddaughter my son and his wife may have.” The Queen was ready to refuse the offer before the old woman raised her hand. “Then, when you arrived and informed us of your condition...I realized the chance that it would not happen. If you have a daughter, I am sure she will be wed to Rhaegar’s son.”

Rhaella gave her the barest hint of a smile. “It has not been something that has been discussed at length. And it will not be something that will be demanded. We are both aware of the pitfalls of arranged marriages, my lady.”

Olenna nodded. “It was something that I luckily had the power to put a halt to.”

“And something I had to endure,” the other woman noted bitterly. “Our father was told that the mythical prince who was promised would be born from our line and he decreed our marriage. I wonder what he would say now if he knew what kind of husband, what kind of father, Aerys was to be.” She shook her head like she was trying to clear the thoughts from her head. “Perhaps the woods witch was right in the end. Perhaps Rhaegar is that prophesied prince. Or maybe it is the son Lyanna carries. It is no matter. It is done. For all my suffering, I have at least been blessed with two fine sons. If this child is a girl, I will thank the Mother for her and the fact she will not have her father in her life.”

“And I will not force her to marry whom she is told to,” she added in a firm voice. “Now, I will not say I will not encourage such a match, but it will be up to them to decide.”

Olenna approved of the sentiment. “After what the Prince and Princess have endured, I am certain that they will thank you for it. As to what I want, well, I could ask for a match with any second child they may be blessed to have, or I can seek a union elsewhere. They call Lyanna ‘the blue rose of the North’, yes? I wonder how a golden rose would fair in the cold, icy North?”

“Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn’s newborn son?” Rhaella asked. “I cannot speak for either of them, my lady, I am sure you know that.”

The Queen of Thrones smiled genuinely. “Oh, I am certainly aware of that. But, would it not be possible to nudge it in such a direction? The same I know you will be doing with your own daughter and grandson?” Then she stood. “I know nothing will be done today. I do not even have a girl to offer to House Stark yet. But it is something I would like us all to keep in the back of our minds. How both the North and the Reach stopped a bloody war from claiming any more of our children.” With nothing else to say and not waiting for a response, Lady Olenna Tyrell took her leave of the Queen, hoping a little rosebud had been planted.

She was not two steps out of the tent when the sound of bells filled the air. It was a curious sound which he realized was emanating from the Great Sept. Under her breath, she whispered, “The fool has gone and done it, then.” She just wasn’t sure who was the fool, the man who was making himself king, or the man who intended to rule as the king.

 

It was long after the sun had set that the royal party was alerted the gates of the city were opened and riders approached. When Stannis saw the three figures on horseback, he could make out one carrying the sigil of House Lannister and another with a white flag. The third man became visible when he dismounted from his horse.

By then, a party of Rhaegar, Lyanna, Rhaella, Ned, Jon, Arthur, Gerold, Jaime and himself had gathered to greet Lord Kevan Lannister. Stannis eyed the other man with a barely concealed sneer, but said nothing, allowing the Prince to take the lead.

“Lord Kevan, it is a pleasure to see you,” Rhaegar announced, a genuinely pleasant expression on his face.

“Is it, your grace?” the lord asked. But, instead of waiting for an answer, he turned his head to look at Ser Jaime. “Your lord father was quite...angry when he discovered you had abandoned your family.”

Jaime’s face remained impressively impassive. “My family turned its back on the rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. I was Kingsguard. My oath is to Queen Rhaella, her sons and her good-daughter.”

“Now, the Mad King is dead while Rhaegar still lives and is the one true king. You’re nephew, the Oathbreaker would find his head on a spike if true justice found him. Perhaps you should go back and tell your brother of Rhaegar Targaryen’s mercy,” Stannis growled, hating each word in defense of Jaime Lannister, but nonetheless willing to defend him in such company. But he did catch the look the Kingslayer threw him.

Lannister did not seem to notice. “I have been sent to tell you the parlay you have sought will be tomorrow at midday, in the Sept of Baelor. His Grace, Robert, First of his Name, his wife,” here, he took a pause as if trying to spit the words out himself, “Cersei of House Lannister and Lord Tywin Lannister will be present.” He sought out Princess Lyanna next, taking tentative steps towards her. “His Grace will meet the Lady Lyanna Stark before, as agreed upon by Lord Arryn.”

Lord Commander Hightower spoke up. “The agreement was for her to be accompanied by a Kingsguard, specifically, Ser Arthur Dayne,” As if to emphasize the point, the Sword of the Morning took up position next to her.

That got Lannister to back off. “Agreed. Who else shall I say will be in your group?”

“Besides my sister and her husband, Queen Rhaella, Lord Arryn, Lord Baratheon and myself, along with our full complement of Kingsguard,” Ned replied.

Kevan Lannister raised an eyebrow at him. “You, Lord Stannis? You would side against your brother, face off against him?”

That made him pause. It was a struggle he had been dealing with since the Rhaegar and the rebel’s combined armies had arrived at King’s Landing. “I have no problem making my own choices, even if they go against the interests of my family, Lord Kevan. That is something I know your own brother would not tolerate. Or are you in agreement with the actions taken by him and his men within the Red Keep, against innocent women and children?” 

There was silence now that fell over the meeting, but it was no surprise to Stannis that it was Rhaegar himself. He stepped forward when and said, “ When you return, please send my cousin mine and my wife’s warmest wishes on his marriage. May he be as happy in his as I am in mine.” Then he looked to Stannis. “As I am sure his brother agrees with.”

Stannis had no reply and Lannister spent no time waiting for one. He mounted his horse and the three spurred them on back to the walls of the city.

Despite the late hour, Rhaegar called for a council session immediately. When they all gathered, Olenna Tyrell and Oberyn Martell adding to their group, the prince turned to his mother. “Your Grace,” he began formally, “I do not think it a good idea for you to join us tomorrow.” Rhaella’s smile was gentle, yet there was an underlying feel to it. Rhaegar caught it but pushed his argument along. “Mother,” he continued, “I worry for you and the babe you carry. And if it were not for my wife’s stubborn insistence on meeting with Robert, I would make the same arguments to her. As for you, there is really no reason for you to be there. Better you stay with Viserys...if the worst were to happen.”

Her lips formed a grim line, but she nodded her assent. “If that is your wish, my son.”

With that, Rhaegar turned next to Jaime. “Ser, with my mother staying behind, there will be no reason for you to go either. You are her sworn shield, your place is to protect her and my siblings. And, I think you will agree, it is for the best if you are not in the presence of your father.” After a moment, Jaime nodded in agreement.

Finally, Stannis found the prince’s eyes on him. “And you, Lord Baratheon. I cannot ask you to come with us tomorrow. I will not ask you to take any further action against your brother. You have done enough in the name of duty to the Iron Throne, but no more.”

“My prince, I must protest!” The words came out harshly, more than he had intended. Still, he went on. “Surely, as a member of this council, I should be there. Even in spite of the fact that Robert and Lannister are trying to usurp your throne.”

Rhaegar held his gaze, then turned to the rest. “I suggest we all take to our beds. Tomorrow will be a long day.” No one moved for a while, but then, after a nod from Rhaegar to Lyanna, the princess spoke up.

“I will see you when you are finished,” she signaled, exiting with Arthur at her back. Everyone else caught on and began to file out, but when Stannis made his way to leave, Rhaegar beckoned him back.

When they were alone, Rhaegar took his seat again, reached for the wine decanter and poured two glasses of a Dornish red Martell had gifted the prince. There seemed to be an internal struggle going on within him until he spoke. “Why is it that you have decided to take my side? I would expect you to stand with your brother, your House. And yet, since the day we arrived, you have remained with us, against Robert.” He looked truly disbelieving of those facts.

“You are the rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, your Grace. It would be treason to take up arms against you,” Stannis explained plainly. He took the goblet before he sat down. “Besides, how can I stand with a man who would have a woman and her children brutally murdered? And Robert… he welcomed such an atrocity, enjoyed it more so. The man I saw was not my brother.” Then thinking of one more point, he added, “And we share blood as well, twice over if the whispers are true.”

“We are the sons of cousins, true enough, but my father sent yours to his death on a fool’s errand. Lord Steffon paid his life for Aerys’ desire of more Valyrian blood within our line,” Rhaegar reminded him as if he needed it so. “As to treason and usurpation amongst family, well, we have only the Great Bastard to look to.”

Stannis glared at the prince, waiting for his counter-argument on the last point. “And are you quick to forgive the death of Elia and your children?”

Rhaegar tensed when Stannis asked that. “There was not much love between Elia and I. We had grown to have a deep friendship, even an affection. But her death, no, her butchery and the children…that is something I can never forgive and never forget. I should’ve been there for them, but it seems that lately all my decisions and choices have only caused more problems than I mean to solve.” He asked his own question. “Are you in complete agreement with all of my decisions?”

“Which ones? Running away with a Northern Lady and marrying her without so much as a word to anyone? Or fathering a child on her while we’re at war?”

“You make it sound as if I stole her.”

“Did you not? Lord Stark betrothed her to my brother,” Stannis argued. “Though I think it a blessing of the gods that she herself had enough sense to know the error of the decision.” He nodded. “No, in the end, you did not steal her. But it took you a bloody long time to come forward with that truth.” He took a breath. “And now here you are, preparing to march on the capitol with a Northerner as for a wife and an Oathbreaker to protect her.”

“Well to be correct, Ser Jaime is protecting my mother, but I see where your greatest concern lies.” Rhaegar nodded, seeing the point. “You don’t agree with my pardoning Ser Jaime Lannister?”

That got a rise out of Stannis, breaking his stoic facade. “Ser Jaime broke a sacred oath. He went against his duty and dishonored himself and all his brothers! He committed regicide!”

The prince did not disagree with him. “Aye, he did. He broke the paramount oath of his order. Tell me, cousin, what would you have done in his place? Knowing the ultimate plans your king had for the city and its people? Would you have done your duty and stood aside while hundreds of thousands burned in an instant?” He closed his eyes, sighing heavily. “Tywin will burn in all seven hells for what his men did, do not mistake me. But, if anything, Ser Jaime’s actions were not a reflection of his father.”

He stood now, force behind his words. “That is why I am here Stannis, but why are you here?”

Stannis glowered at Rhaegar. “Even with all your mistakes and foolish actions, you’re still are better than Robert, and you’re still the rightful King. I am just a lord doing his duty like a good soldier is meant to. And a good soldier follows orders. You are still also your own man, making the decision that you think will be best for the realm. Robert is dancing to Lannister’s tune and that will mean he is the king in all but name if my brother remains on a throne he has usurped.”

“You are right,” Rhaegar agreed. “Grand Maester Pycelle said it aloud once, that Tywin would make a better king than the one we had.” He turned his back to Stannis, his decision finally coming to him. “I thank you for the faith you have in me, even with the errors I have committed along the way. And I thank you for your loyalty to the crown. Now, I have one last request of you, Lord Stannis--leave King’s Landing. Take yourself and your men, and leave here.” He could see the other man begin to argue, but he cut him off. “I order you to go no further against your blood. I would rather burden you with less things than I already have.”

“Fewer.” Stannis corrected.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He cleared his throat, choosing not to go any further with the Prince. 

Then Rhaegar threw him a smirk but said nothing else. He continued with the line of thought he had been on. “Yes, we are cousins, but I cannot let you be involved in a situation that could lead to drawing blood against your own brother. I will not have you put yourself into a place that may end in you being called a kinslayer.” 

“You think it will come to that?” Stannis could not see that as possible at first. Yes, his brother could strike out, if his fury was stoked enough. But, in the end, they were family. He did not think Robert would become so enraged as to try to end the Prince’s life.

“I cannot say,” Rhaegar replied. “But it cannot be discounted either. Yes, I will have my guard with me, but Robert…” He did not need to finish that sentence. Stannis understood all too well. “No, I will not put you in the middle of our fight. In the morn, leave the crownlands with your men.”

“And is this your final decision, your Grace?” Stannis asked through gritted teeth. No answer came, only a nod of assertion. He did not like what he had just been told, but he would follow his liege’s orders. “Then I shall take my leave of you, Prince Rhaegar, and wish you good fortune in the wars to come.” He said not another word, only turned his heels and left the tent.


End file.
